


Eye of Loss

by Thera_Lance



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Duelist Kingdom, F/M, Gen, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Yu-Gi-Oh Season Zero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thera_Lance/pseuds/Thera_Lance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Yugi, Tea, and Bakura soon learn, the Millennium Items fetch a higher price than the gold from which they are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_No, that is not right._

Yami had thought that the entirety of his upper back would have a dull, bruised ache to it after the blow, but he was wrong about the intensity of this Shadow Game. The entirety of his back feels as if had been struck by a dense wooden club that was thicker than a person. The shoulder bones feel shattered or cracked depending on the distance from the impact site, and each breath has to be dragged in through the pain. Even while swaying, the dark spirit snarls as he forces himself to stay standing. Around him, the last rays of sunlight disappear as night takes hold of the deep forest. A cold breeze causes the branches to sway and their shadows to dance.

“It’s your turn, Yami.” The lady’s voice stays at a calm level. It does not imply impatience even though Yami had been frozen with pain for the past few minutes.

Hands clenching the duel arena’s metal railing and crimson eyes aglow with anger, Yami does not respond. Instead, he forces the pain down and stands straight.

_It might feel real, but remember, this is a Shadow Game. These injuries are only in the mind._

Yami’s insistent thoughts do nothing to erase the dull aches and sharp pains, but he does sense through the pain that his bones are intact and uncracked.

“I draw.” His voice calls out clearly and his gaze refuses to be drawn to the large lurking beast in the shadows of the forest around him. The old lady across from him surveys him with glasses that gleam in the light of the arena. The metallic components of her wheelchair glint as well.

Crimson eyes glance at the card that determines the fate of both players before they focus back on his opponent. The anger, no, the hatred threatens to consume him and his morality. Yami is tempted, so very tempted, to end this game with one of his permanent Penalty Games. No one has the right to say that he should not exist. No one has the right to drag him to this forsaken island and to threaten _his_ friends, _his_ family.

Deep in his mind and down a stone corridor, Yami senses the muffled fear of his lighter half. The dark spirit does not have to open the locked door of Yugi’s soulroom to know what the boy fears. Bakura’s manipulations have ensured that Yami’s own lighter half fears him. Fears the way that his own darkness bound him away without caring enough to steal the memories this time. Fears the possibility of waking up in his body to find yet another corpse or insane victim of Yami’s favored Penalty Games.

A hesitation and Yami plays the drawn card. His crimson eyes are narrow, but, in the very last remnant of orange light, whether they are narrowed in anger, hatred, or something else is unknown.


	2. Chapter 1

_Three weeks earlier._

Deep within her school bag, Tea’s Petit Angel card sits on top of her deck and waits for a duel that would never come. The duel was supposed to mark an anniversary of sorts- a celebration of one whole week without an absence from school by one or more of her friends. After a straight month of training with Yugi’s grandpa, Joey would have been there and ready to test his new skills in a duel against Tea. Instead of dueling, Tea sits at her desk with disappointed and worried thoughts swirling through her head and with her gaze solely on the tricolored-haired head that rests on crossed arms. Even breaths barely reach Tea’s ears as the boy sleeps.

The boy’s eyes have been closed for most of the class, but Tea does not have the heart to wake him. Yugi still ends up staying up more nights than not, so he needs the rest.

_Besides, it’s not like Ms. Chono will scold him._

The teacher in question does not even pause in her lecture, but her gaze does harden whenever she happens to glance in Yugi’s direction. On any other day, Tea would have glared back. But today, two empty seats draw too much of her attention. As she glances at the empty chairs for the hundredth time today, Tea’s blue eyes fill with concern. Still…

_From the way Yugi described last night, it wasn’t too bad of an episode. Just another nightmare of Ryo’s that kept him, Joey, and Yugi up the rest of the night._

Tea shakes her head.

_Stop worrying and concentrate. If it were bad, both Yugi and Joey would have stayed with Ryo, not just Joey._

Tea tears her gaze and thoughts away from the empty chairs. One glance in Tristan and Miho’s direction confirms that at least one of them is taking notes for the rest of the group. Tea looks down on at her own blank page. She sighs and forces herself to follow the teacher’s lecture for the first time today. Several minutes later, the kind of itch that she gets when she feels like someone is watching her ruins her concentration.

She does not scratch the itch. Instead, Tea tucks a strand of brown hair behind that ear and glances out of the corner of her eye to see who watches her. The first sight that catches her blue-eyed gaze is Hanasaki. The small boy looks distraught as he bites his lower lip and keeps glancing from the sleeping Yugi to the feared Ms. Chono. If he were not several seats away, Tea has no doubt that Hanasaki would have tried to awaken their mutual friend. Her relief at the current seating arrangement dies as the itch by Tea’s ear grows stronger.

Tea glances around the room, searching for the source of the itch. When no one is revealed, Tea almost gives up until a shift in the back corner of the room catches her eye. One glance reveals an orange-eyed student who, if Tea did not know for a fact that everyone in this room was a high schooler, she might have mistaken for a child.

Once their eyes meet, he looks away from her, but it is only for a moment as he glances at Ms. Chono and then to the sleeping Yugi. When his gaze meets hers again, he smirks and an unsettling feeling descends on Tea. Regardless of her emotions, she refuses to look away. Her challenge is met with a tilt of his head. Even though the tilt is slight, one of the two long spikes of black hair on his head almost stabs the table.

_I know you, right? You’re…_

The new transfer student, Klamath Osler. The only reason that she remembers his name is that’s its an American name like her father’s. Also, foreign transfer students are not exactly common at Domino High, so the buzz of gossip in the halls have helped fortify her memory of the name. The unease she felt before grows stronger. The last two transfer students that have graced these halls were Seto Kaiba and Ryo Bakura, and although Ryo could hardly be held responsible for Bakura’s actions, each of them has left his _mark_ on Yugi and the rest of Tea’s friends.

For the rest of the class, Tea ends up having a staring contest with the boy. Even when the shrill ring of the bell blasts out from the speakers while some of the students stand and chat loudly amongst themselves, challenge and suspicion rules Tea’s eyes. Klamath’s smirk has long since faded.

It is only when Yugi awakens with blurry eyes does the boy break eye contact. His orange eyes dart to Hanasaki, who is making his way to Yugi’s desk. After a quick jump out of his chair, the transfer student steps around Hanasaki.

Yugi starts a little at the transfer student’s sudden appearance.

_What are you doing?_

As the boy says something to Yugi that slips under the loud chatter of the classroom, Tea narrows her eyes.

“Oh sure, I don’t mind walking with you.” One sentence of Yugi’s finally makes it past the chatter.

Before Tea can push herself away from her desk, Yugi stands, follows the smirking student, and disappears into the hallway’s flow of students. Hanasaki stares after the pair before turning to his desk with eyelids that droop with dejection.

For a moment, the temptation to follow Yugi urges her to jam her items into her bag. However, when Hanasaki’s slouched shoulders and the way that he places each school item into his bag with slow hands catch Tea’s eyes, the temptation dissipates.

_Yugi could probably handle that kid. Even if he couldn’t, the Other Yugi would be able to deal with the kid if he happened to be an axe murderer or something. Besides how long has it been since we talked to Hanasaki? He must be thinking that we don’t want to hang out with him anymore._

When Tea walks up to Hanasaki and says, “Hey, Hanasaki,” the boy straightens and his eyes brighten as he smiles at her. Tea feels the guilt drop into her stomach. No one has talked to Hanasaki in a long time.

“Oh hi, Tea.” The boy stands there with one hand holding open his school bag and another loosely holding a red textbook. His mouth remains open a sliver as if he wants to speak again; however, the sliver disappears and he remains quiet. Tea cannot blame him.

The clatter of the classroom interrupts her thoughts and potential words so many times that Tea eventually blurts out, “ Do you want to walk with me to the library?”

Hanasaki’s breath pauses, and then, “Sure, Tea.” Unlike before, the contents of Hanasaki’s bag quickly appear in their proper place.

Tea almost shifts her weight from foot to foot but manages to force the urge down. Instead, she brushes another strand of hair behind her ear. Once they move, she lets Hanasaki walk ahead of her out of the classroom. After a near silent walk with false starts, they find themselves in the library.

“What did you want to check out? I could help you look.”

Tea looks up with mildly widened eyes. “Well, I actually didn’t need anything in particular.” She pauses. “I just wanted to talk somewhere quiet.”

At those words, Hanasaki’s hopeful expression grows. “Okay, let’s go sit down.”

On their way to a table, Tea spots Miho amongst the shelves with a few thick, oddly titled books tucked under her arm. For a second, curiosity at the contents of _Cults of the Ancient World_ and _Divination and Other Magyks_ overcomes the awkwardness towards Hanasaki. Tea pushes the curiosity aside in favor of sitting opposite of Hanasaki.  Unlike in the hallway and classroom, Tea actually manages to start a conversation.

“Sorry that we haven’t visited you lately. Things have been a little hectic.” Tea’s words are carried by an apologetic tone.

Hanasaki studies her expression for a moment before speaking, “It certainly looks like it. Half of the time, all of you look like you’re about to pass out in class.” The boy hesitates and bites the side of his lower lip. “It has something to do with the new student, Ryo Bakura, doesn’t it?”

Tea, whose attention had wavered from Hanasaki when another student walked too close, snaps her focus back to the shorter boy. “I… Yes, it does, and…” Tea cringes at her own hesitation.

_I didn’t want to mention Ryo. Please don’t ask anymore._

As if reading Tea’s thoughts, Hanasaki’s eyes widen and he leans back. “Oh, I don’t mean to pry. I…” He looks down to the table and then looks back at her again. “I just noticed that you guys missed school when he disappeared for those weeks…and he looks really ill, so I…” The boy runs one thumb over the other.  “I don’t want to know anything private or anything. I just wanted to let you know that I knew you guys weren’t purposely avoiding me and that I understood…”

Tea opens her mouth to ask how Hanasaki was able to guess that Ryo was unwell, but then images of the white-haired boy walking the school halls with the pallor and weight of a ghost drift through her mind. Hanasaki speaks before her thoughts are fully collected.

“I used to get sick all the time, so I know how much it sucks. It’s really nice that you guys are helping him out.” The words rush over one another in a nervous stream. After speaking, Hanasaki turns to reach into his bag.

“Ryo’s really needed help. He hasn’t been alright…” Tea begins.

The _for a long time_ goes unsaid.

Hanasaki, whose hand has paused just inside of the bag, nods. His open, soft expression matches Yugi’s so much that Tea lets more words slip.

“It’s been weeks and weeks of sleepless nights and, I get so worried that it’s all going to start up again.” Nightmares of her own and those that have robbed her friend of peace and sanity for so long clutch at her thoughts and drag them down to darker levels. True-blue eyes stare off into some distance until a dark shape lands on the table.

Tea focuses her gaze on the form in front of her.

“I bought this because…It really helped me having someone to look up to when I was ill, so I thought that maybe your friend, Ryo, might like it.” Hanasaki’s hand lingers on a foot-tall Zombyre figure, complete with his inhuman skull mask and red cape.

Tea stares at it in silence for too long.

“Or, if you think that he would be too uncomfortable.” Hanasaki begins to pull the figure back. Tea’s hand encases his own and part of the figure.

“Wait.” She shakes her head to drive back the darker thoughts. “It’s not that, sorry.” Her small smile is enough to cause Hanasaki to pause. “I think Ryo would like this. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Hanasaki nods in response and pulls his hand back. “I know you’re worried, but he looks like he’s a bit healthier than a week ago.”

Tea looks at the figure and pulls it closer to herself. “Yeah, I noticed. I guess I worry because he’s been ill for a very long time, but,” True-blue meets Hanasaki’s eyes and a touch of relief at the realization that the Ring has been missing for weeks and that the nightmares now are rather tame enters her expression. “You’re right. He looks a lot better.”

_Even if there are setbacks, Ryo’s finally getting better._

The rest of the conversation and afternoon turns to ordinary, small things that cause easy breaths and smiles. Petit Angel even gets to see the world outside of its tin casing in Tea’s bag when Hanasaki asks about the card game that appears to have become the gangs’ new obsession.

* * *

 

_Ryo’s finally getting better._

Bakura’s hand slips past the few items in the cabinet. Fingers scratch at the false backing. It takes a few tries, but he eventually finds the crease that allows him to open the hidden compartment. The kitchen light illuminates a group of glass bottles filled with ruby red liquid and some plastic jars stocked with brightly colored pills and powders. On all the containers is one of three symbols: a red skull, grey minus sign, or green plus symbol.

Moving past rows of jars and bottles, Bakura’s fingers brush past a bottle of what could be liquid smoke and reach for a jar of red powder in back. The palm of his hand glances the side of a jar of little grains of colorless salt. Its red skull faces Bakura. He pauses, and fingers wrap around the jar. Empty eyes stare as fingers grasp so tightly that the cork cover of the jar pops up and nearly falls off.

_It would be so easy._

A scent escapes the jar and drifts over to Bakura. A heartbeat passes, and then amber eyes harden and narrow. Bakura forces himself to let go of the jar with its colorless grains, push the lid back on, and grab the jar filled with red powder. The backing is set back into place before Bakura turns around and walks back to the dining table.

A medium-sized brown bowl topped off with salsa awaits for him to tip a bit of the red powder into the meal. Even with the strong smell of paprika, tomatoes and chili peppers, Bakura still smells the faint scent of the jar’s colorless contents.  He scowls as he stirs in the powder until its obvious presence vanishes. Amber eyes refuse to glance at the grey minus sign. Before leaving with the bowl of salsa and the bag of tortilla chips next to it, Bakura refuses to put the jar away. The colorless one is too tempting.

Light footsteps accompany Bakura to the living room. As predicted, the Pharaoh’s pet still fidgets in his seat on the couch. Bakura blinks before the mortal looks towards him. Green eyes meet Joey’s brown.

“Chips, ah thanks, Ryo.” The mortal snatches the bag out of Bakura’s hands. Bakura smiles a soft smile that tempts the desire of self-mutilation.

“Here’s a bowl of salsa too. Late nights are awful on the appetite, so I thought that I would add something extra.”

The bowl vanishes from Bakura’s hands, and Joey does not even pause to sniff the food before wolfing it down.

_Eat it all up, you delinquent. I made this especially for rude little mortals who refuse to go to school._

Joey looks up at Bakura. Bright brown eyes and the accompanying grin cause a twitch in his knifing hand.

“The salsa tastes great! What did you put in it?”

Bakura forces the smile to stay small enough to hide his canines. “My own secret ingredient.”

Joey looks pensive and then a tad excited. “Let me guess. A pinch of almonds.”

The expression of surprise is not faked. “Why would you say that?”

Joey’s nostrils flare. “Smells a bit like it.” Triumph spreads across his features. “So, did I guess right?”

A pause and then, “No, I was going to add a few of them, but I decided not to.”

_You have an unusually strong sense of smell. Maybe you’re part canine. Next time, I should put doggy biscuits in your food._

Joey’s look of confusion dissipates the moment he yawns from the tiredness of last night. That has to be the cause; it had not been enough time for the effects to show.

Joey reaches up a hand to rub his nose before stopping a couple inches away at the memory of the salsa that coats his hands. Instead, he looks to Bakura. The brightness of his eyes dampens with concern.

“You’re not going to eat?” If Joey were smarter, Bakura would actually be worried that his ruse was up.

“Oh no, I’m not that hungry.” Bakura lets the unsaid “because of last night,” linger. That should deter further questions.

Guilt plagues Joey’s eyes, but he still speaks anyways. “Do you want to talk about it?” I mean, I know I’m not Yugi or that Alister guy, but I can try to understand.” Joey with his _smiling, living_ younger sister looks at Bakura and waits for Ryo to spill the nightmares of last night.

“No, you can’t.” Bakura’s voice hardens too much, and his Ryo mask nearly cracks as a hint of fear enters Joey’s widening eyes.

The red powder saves him. Hints of fear dissipate and Joey yawns again. When he looks back at Bakura, the ring spirit can tell that these last few moments will slip from the delinquent’s memory.

“Man, I’m tired…” Brown eyes droop. It is only a minute later that an unconscious boy flops onto the couch cushions. Amber eyes stare down at the mortal. It takes a breath, but the bag of chips and the bowl of salsa are taken back to the kitchen. The evidence flows down the sink’s drain after the bag lands with a thud at the bottom of the trashcan.

Harsh breaths and the clank of the bowl against the counter spike through the room.

_How dare he. How dare that cretin act like-_

“Big Brother?”

Bakura does not turn, but he does stiffen.

“Big Brother?”

The water that he dries off his hands clings like blood to his skin. Bakura breathes deeply, turns, and sees the girl in her thin, blue nightgown, hears the blood dripping to the floor, each drop hitting the ground and gracing through his ears. Its metallic stench almost overpowers him. He looks into those bright blue eyes and nearly looses himself in Ryo’s nightmare.

With eyes covered by bangs, Bakura steps forward. Amane continues to stare at him with those bright blue eyes. A frown graces her features until he takes the second step forward. She then smiles and her arms rise.

“Big brother!” Small, delicate hands reach out to hold him as Bakura takes a few steadier steps forward. Her fingers almost graze the front of his shirt before he…

Walks right through her and out the door. Not once does he look back before he enters the RPG room. Not once does he look back at the empty hall whose floor is free of pools of blood.

* * *

 

There are two reasons why the red powder was used instead of the Ring’s magic. One currently hides away in a body with obscenely styled tricolored-hair and knows precisely how difficult he has made it for Bakura to muster up any energy after Monster World. The second reason cries out from the other side of the room.

Bakura steps around the RPG table and past tall glass door cabinets full of now mostly useless figurines. Eyes ahead, he refuses to focus on the diorama that sits on top of his workbench. It is all he can do to keep his anger at losing Monster World in check and to keep the Shadows that crawl inside the Ring from tearing the Pharaoh’s trophy into shards of glass and plastic. As the Shadows settle, the feather light touch of Ryo’s consciousness grows a tad heavier with fear.

Bakura sighs and closes his eyes to make sure Landlord still responds to nightmares and not to Bakura’s mood. With just enough of himself left behind to keep their shared body upright, Bakura peeks into Ryo’s soulroom. A creak to his right causes Bakura to glance to the side. From just inside the entrance, the yellow eyes of a towering blue puppet with too many joints stare near lifelessly at him as she guards her two charges. Bakura cannot help his glance at the broken infant puppet in her arms. The jagged hole in its head reveals that there is nothing inside.

Amber eyes dart over to his sleeping lighter half. As barely perceptible whimpers graze Bakura’s ears, Ryo’s face glistens with sweat from his nightmares. The boy almost curls into himself and he clutches onto a small stuffed figure in his arms. When the figure’s identity registers, Bakura almost rushes over to Ryo’s side to tear the stuffed creature into pieces of fluffed cotton. Fists are clenched instead and amber eyes narrow. The red hair of the figure provides a sharp contrast with Ryo’s white and blue bedding, and its grey, glassy eyes stare in Bakura’s direction with mockery in their depths. The ring spirit’s frown deepens more than the stuffed figure’s hard line. If, if Ryo’s current levels of sanity were not caused by what the figure symbolized, then that symbol and the one that it represented would have been disposed of long before now. As it is, Bakura congratulates himself for not slamming the cedar door shut and hearing nothing but silence as it closes.

Bakura opens his eyes just in time to hear the whine that most humans could not. Lips drawn into a thin line, Bakura finishes his walk to the other end of the room where a large figurine, a foot-tall black creature equipped with wings that stretch out behind it and jagged teeth, scratches at the glass that traps it.

The glass door opens before the figurine can damage it more. Bakura prepares to snarl a warning, but the creature speaks first.

“Master,” Its voice grinds gravel. “I’ve given much of my energy, but Roku won’t last another min-”

Bakura pushes the figurine aside and grabs the small shapes that are hidden behind its legs. The Shadows within him surge forth as Bakura stares at his closed hand. The large creature watches from the shelves while Bakura’s scowl fades. It disappears completely once Bakura senses the smaller one in his hand feeds off the shadows. That should keep it alive long enough to repair the damage that buffoon Joey caused when he cut Bakura’s creation in half.

Bakura’s eyes flicker to the large, bat-like figurine before the ring spirit turns to his work bench. Black leathery wings spread wide and take flight, and the creature soars around the room. Its shadow dances across the walls and cabinets and motionless, plastic faces within. Bakura does not pay any attention to the creature, instead focusing a glare on the diorama that Ryo made in _gratitude_ of the Pharaoh’s pets. From within the glass, two figurines claw at their prisoner. Unlike with the other one, Bakura does not let them out.

Even while the flying creature glides to the workbench, hovers as it extracts various tools from the drawers, and drops them in front of Bakura, the glare does not leave the smiling, motionless figurines and the traitorous ones, too weak to claw through glass. A white sheet drops onto the diorama, enclosing it completely. Bakura’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly and his gaze focuses on the creature that sits on top of the sheet. Its blackened purple eyes burrow into Bakura, who only sighs in response. Not long after, shadows flicker and pale fingers snatch up a tool and set to work.


	3. Chapter 2

As the two small students walk down the nearly empty street, Yugi rubs one of his eyes with the back of his hand and yawns. Tiredness presses down on him and causes Yugi to drag his feet while he walks. Neither the winter chill of the snowless day nor the slow pace that Klamath and he travel at register within Yugi’s mind as the sidewalk blurs.

“You must be really tired if this cold isn’t waking you up.” Klamath’s amused voice tears through Yugi’s semi-conscious state. The tricolored-haired one shakes his head to drive away the weariness.

“Sorry, Klamath, I didn’t mean to be rude. What did you say?”

With raised eyebrows and a tilted back chin, the new student stares at Yugi.

“I said, you look tired.”

Yugi stops to smack the side of his own head.

“Sorry for fazing out. I didn’t sleep much last night.” Yugi’s face scrunches up in embarrassment. Klamath just smiles back.

“Yeah, I totally understand. I stay up late all the time playing games, restructuring my deck if new cards come out...” As Klamath continues and glances at the sidewalk, Yugi frowns.

_I wish I had stayed up doing something like that._

In truth, Yugi had done those things. Last night, Joey, Ryo, and he had divvied up a few packs of cards and had talked about the tournaments that they had watched recently. On the surface, it looked like a normal night between three friends except that it was two-thirty in the morning and Ryo’s hand had trembled each time he picked up a card.

“Anyway, enough about my own late night adventures.” The transfer student eyes Yugi. “I suppose you’re wondering why I wanted to talk.”

The words almost do not reach Yugi, who currently wonders if maybe he should go back to Ryo’s place soon. However, a dark nudge at the back of Yugi’s mind causes him to look up at the right moment and hear Klamath’s words.

“Oh, yeah, what did you want to talk about?” The interest in Yugi’s voice is sincere, albeit a little distant.

 _“Stop worrying.”_ For the first time in two days, Yugi’s Other Self speaks from the back of Yugi’s mind. _“Ryo’s nightmare may have kept us up last night, but he was fine when we left.”_

His Other Self’s voice is nearly nonexistent; nevertheless, Yugi still mentally winces. The Other Yugi does have a better sense of Ryo’s breaking points, so he would have told Yugi sooner if there had been a problem.

 _“Sorry, I shouldn’t over worry.”_ Sincerity permeates Yugi’s thoughts.

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to duel.” Klamath’s orange eyes spark in the sunset’s light. “It’s not every day that you happen to transfer to the same school as the guy who beat Seto Kaiba.”

The tricolor-haired boy stops. No signs of the droopy lids are evident in his wide eyes of surprise.

“You know about my duel with Kaiba?”  Yugi’s stunned tone causes Klamath to stop and look back.

“Know about… Of course I know about that! It was on TV and everything.” Klamath straightens and drones in a deeper voice. “And here we have footage of the first realistic holograms ever invented being used in the popular children’s card game, Duel Monsters.” The foreigner’s stance loosens and his tone rises to its normal pitch. “It was even on that Discovery show.”

“Really?” Yugi’s eyes grow even wider.

 _“Well, that is fascinating.”_ Somehow, the Other Yugi’s voice manages to slide in Yugi’s head. More than a touch of smugness curls around his thoughts.

“Even though I’m an amateur duelist, it would be embarrassing if I didn’t know. Heck, it would be embarrassing for the computer geeks not to know your name when it’s attached to Solid Vision.”

Yugi swallows and his hand finds the back of his head.

“Well, that’s pretty big.” The nervous chuckle that follows trails off.

“Yeah,” Klamath stares at him. “It is. So, do you want to duel, or do you need a bit?” The foreigner’s head twitches with each few words and the spikes in his hair wiggle slightly.

“Oh, a duel is fine. I recover quickly.”  It’s Yugi’s voice, but his eyes widen because those are not his words. His surprise dissipates when he senses his Other Self relinquish control.

 _“He seems rather excited about the prospect of dueling us.”_ A touch of boredom drifts from the Other Yugi’s thoughts. It has been weeks since his Other has been in control, so perhaps he wants a chance to stretch his legs, so to speak.

 _“Since I’m still tired, do you want to duel him?”_ Even with the surprise that lingers in Yugi’s system, he still feels the ache of sleep around his eyes.

His Other Self watches him in silence. The sign of a “yes” is a trace of eagerness that slips past the quiet.

“Cool,” Klamath says with a smile that seems sharp in the orange light of the setting sun.

* * *

 

The jingling bell of the Shop’s door does not even draw Yugi’s attention as he steps past the boundary. Instead, amethyst eyes are drawn to the empty spot behind the counter.

“Hey, Grandpa,” Yugi calls out as he steps past Klamath. The sound of their breathing is the only answer. A glance around the shop reveals nothing except… There is a slip of paper on the counter. Yugi walks forward to grab the off-white slip. One quick reading of the paper causes the grandson to sigh and smile.

“What does it say?” Klamath asks while he walks up to Yugi’s side.

Yugi looks towards Klamath. “Not much, just that the Shop’s closed and he won’t be coming back for awhile.” The smile still lingers.

“Oh, okay.” The boy shifts from foot to foot. “So, where we gonna duel then?”

And Yugi feels himself smile, but it is not his smile. Even though the reaction was partially expected, the disconnection between Yugi and control of his body still causes shivers along his shoulders. Except, his shoulders stay perfectly still; it is just the feeling of shoulders that Yugi feels.

His Other Self’s smile fades and crimson eyes narrow. Beside them, Klamath stands unaware as he peers into the glass cabinets by the counter.

 _“Sorry. I’m still used to switching without asking.”_ An undercurrent of wariness ripples through the Other Yugi’s thoughts.

 _“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to ask you to switch back or anything. Just please remember to warn me next time.”_ Exhaustion still pulls at Yugi’s thoughts, so he welcomes the chance to rest. His Other Self nods and turns to Klamath.

“There’s a table right in back that we can use.” Crimson eyes glint as the Other Yugi allows Klamath to go through the door first. He even pulls out a chair for the new student. Klamath glances at the Other Yugi before sitting down.

“Thanks?”

The Other Yugi smiles as he sits across the table. “It’s no problem. How else should I treat a guest such as yourself?” Mockery does not lurk in his tone, but his smile sharpens for a moment.

“Okay.” Klamath nods. His eyes do not quite dare to leave the Other Yugi’s face. Meanwhile, Yugi, a little too sleepy to comment, watches his Other’s thoughts through a translucent veil.

Eventually, Klamath looks down to set his cards on the mat, but it is not long before he looks up with an expression that sparks as though he has just thought of something.

“How about we make this game a little more interesting?” The boy then smirks. “From time to time, a lot of duelists like to make little wagers, so maybe we could make one now.”

The ceiling light reflects off the Other Yugi’s eyes. In the back of their mind, Yugi shifts. He would rather not have his darker half making wagers.

_“Oh, don’t worry. It would just be a little harmless fun. Besides, it isn’t like the boy is reeking with Shadow Magic.”_

Before Yugi can object, the Other Yugi continues out loud. “That sounds like it would be fun. Would you like to state what the rules of this wager would be?”

Klamath appears to think for a moment. “How about the winner can ask a favor of the loser? The favor doesn’t have to be collected right after the duel, either.”

Something clicks from somewhere in the Game Shop, and the Other Yugi’s smirk grows. The Puzzle glints under the light.

“Very well.” The Other Yugi blinks as his lighter half brushes his thoughts with questions. “That sounds fair.”

“Heh,” Klamath draws a hand of six. “I guess we’ll see who’s lucky enough to win, but…” Orange eyes roam over the hand and a smirk spreads. “Since I’m the luckiest guy I know, I doubt I have much to worry about.” The duelist pulls a monster card from his hand and plays it face up, but before the Other Yugi can look it over, Yugi’s thoughts grow heavier.

“ _Wait, I thought this was supposed to be a normal duel.”_

The Other Yugi almost chuckles as he reads the upside down text.

 _“But, Yugi, this is a normal duel. I see no Shadow magic or games of life and death. Besides,”_ The Other Yugi watches as Klamath opens his mouth to say his monster’s name. _“It’s been a few weeks since we’ve had anything exciting happen.”_

“I summon Antlion in attack position!” Klamath leans forward in his chair. “I then end my turn.”

The Other Yugi draws his sixth card. “I’ll play Beaver Warrior in defense position, and I’ll set this card”

“Ha!” Klamath looks down on the red-eyed warrior with his little sword and shield. “What chance does that little rodent have against my Antlion?” The mentioned card’s white eyes seem to glow sinisterly from the shadows they hide in.

Puzzlement overtakes the Other Yugi’s expression. “Well, none if he were to attack. Your monster would reduce his already low attack points by five hundred.”

Klamath looks up with a start. “Wait, you read my card?”

“Well, it is sitting right there.”

“No one reads people’s cards.”

 _“Well, people used to, but now with your opponent’s cards all the way across the big arena…”_ Yugi contributes.

“I end my turn,” the Other Yugi breathes. As he sighs, his agreement travels through the link.

Klamath shakes off the previous conversation with the draw of a card. He smirks once he sees its identity.

“Well, look at that. Luck of the draw. You should have picked a better monster your last turn, because now you’re little vermin is about to be squashed.” Klamath plays a card in the Spell/Trap Zone. “ I equip Antlion with Laser Cannon. He now has seven hundred more attack points.” The duelist plays another card, a grotesque worm with an eyeball popping out of its mouth. “Then, I summon Worm Drake.”

Klamath points to the Other Yugi. “Antlion incinerates your fur ball and leaves you wide open for a direct attack by my Worm Drake.”

The Other Yugi does not even blink as he flips over Mirror Force. “Antlion’s attack rebounds and destroys both of your monsters.” His even gaze meets Klamath’s shock. “You lose eight hundred points.”

It takes a little too long for Klamath to take his monsters off the board. In response, the Other Yugi raises his eyebrows, and the two cards are soon deposited in the Graveyard.

“I assume that you end your turn.” The Other Yugi waits a breath for Klamath to move. He does not; the Other Yugi draws.

“I’ll switch Beaver Warrior into attack mode,” The monster card turns from sideways to pointing directly at Klamath. “and attack you directly. You now have zero life points.”

* * *

 

“Aww, man.”

The two of them stand on the steps of the Game Shop now. The sun has vanished behind buildings. Klamath’s shoulders slouch as he stares down at the grey sidewalk. From beside him, crimson eyes watch.

 _“I kind of feel bad for him,”_ Yugi thinks softly.

The Other Yugi does not respond.

“I can’t believe that I lost so fast. I mean, only amateurs lose that fast.” The whine makes Yugi to want to pat Klamath’s shoulder, but his hand, which rests at his side, stays out of his control.

 _“You should say something encouraging,”_ Yugi nudges. _“You did curbstomp him a bit.”_

The Other Yugi blinks.

 _“I’m not going to ask for the favor now,”_ The Other Yugi offers.

From within the mind comes a sigh.

“I wouldn’t say that you’re are an amateur.” There should be other words added on to that, but the Other Yugi truly cannot think of anything else to say.

Klamath glances up. “But you only used two cards.”

“Luck of the draw, I suppose.” When Klamath winces, the Other Yugi wonders if he misstepped.

_“Maybe I should take over.”_

Before the Other Yugi can recede, a phone jingles. The noise only lasts a second, but Klamath has his phone out before the residue of sound fully leaves the air. The blue screen reflects oddly off of Klamath’s orange eyes.

“Well, gotta go.” He throws the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Pops wants me home before seven.” The boy steps down to the sidewalk.

Amethyst eyes blink into awareness by the Game Shop door. It does not take long for them to slant in concern.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Yugi doubts that someone his size would find the nightlife of Domino safe.

Klamath looks back with a smirk. “Nah, I got a ride I can call. See ya later.” With that, the boy sets off down the street. His brisk steps are followed by a perplexed stare.

 

* * *

 

“See you later.” Tea waves to Hanasaki as he walks down the path behind her. She really would prefer to continue talking to him as they walked, but, unfortunately, they live in different directions.

_Well, I guess I have to go ahead on my own._

It is not dark yet. The orange rays of sunlight brush against her face as she walks. Even in the presence of sunlight, shivers still travel down Tea’s spine. The chill breezes of winter have moved into the city of Domino. One of them runs by her bare legs. There are times where Tea truly despises her unchanging school outfit. The tap of shoes grows more frequent as she picks up her pace.

_That was a nice conversation with Hanasaki._

The boy’s trivial topics had been refreshing, but now the lightness on her shoulders diminishes once Tea realizes that the sun has disappeared behind taller buildings. A quick check of her phone reveals that she is probably going to miss her bus. At that, she takes off running.

Domino is not the city to be out at night in. Not for a girl like her at least; although, if the Other Yugi was walking her home, Tea would be perfectly safe. She can imagine it now. His red eyes would glow with vibrancy even in the shadows of the streets. Maybe, that amused spark would enter his eyes at something Tea said instead of at a well-played game.

The expected flush of exercise disguises the blush that spreads across her cheeks. Tea has not even thought about the Other Yugi like that in weeks, but the more she distances herself from the events of a few weeks ago, the more daring she becomes. It’s okay to think about the spiky-haired individual whose voices slide like velvet chocolate in the air. You can be a normal girl without feeling guilty.

Through the unhindered thoughts and the pounding heart of her run, Tea does not see the stranger who steps around the corner in front of her. With a thud, the stranger’s grocery bags go flying, and Tea finds herself on the ground with skinned palms. Dented cans greet her wide eyes and a man’s leg shifts underneath her belly.

“Ack! Sorry!” She is on her knees in the time it takes a pained “ahh,” to escape the stranger.

The man opens his eyes as he sits up. His cheekbones are long, like his jaw was yanked down at some point, and his eyes are an odd shade of green that reminds Tea of looking through fogged glass.

“Man, you pack a wallop.” The man, who looks to be in his twenties, grimaces as he bends his leg.

“I’m sorry! I should have been paying attention.” Tea’s blush no longer has any romantic origins behind it.

The man looks at her with fogged eyes and shrugs. “I wasn’t paying attention either, so it’s on both of us.”

“I’ll help you pick up,” mutters Tea as she looks down in embarrassment. A can of squid sits by her knee.

_I’m such an idiot. How can I call myself a dancer when I’m such a klutz?_

The young man grins at her bowed head.

“Sure, thanks.” He hands her a plastic bag.

For next few minutes, Tea stuffs cans back into the bag. A can of squid, two of shrimp, one of…jellyfish? Tea stares at the last label for a moment before reaching for it.

When she reaches for the last can, the boy’s hand almost bumps against hers. First a sharp intake of breath, and then, Tea looks up. The expression on the man’s face shows no gratitude, only amusement that curls into a smirk.

“Thanks, _Tea_ , I would have been here for a while if you hadn’t helped me out.”

Tea’s heart skips a beat at her name. Her mouth dries.

_When did I tell him my name?_

She did not. She knows she did not. Something is wrong.

The sun has completely set, and Tea’s thoughts are pulled round and round in a whirlwind. The man keeps smirking.

“By the way, can you do one more favor?”

The last thing Tea notices as the shadows darken is the man’s eyes. Even though the street has vanished in the darkness, those eyes have not dimmed in the slightest. They glow like sunlit fog in the night shadows.


	4. Chapter 3

Joey Wheeler yawns with one arm outstretched to rid himself of his nap’s stiffness. One blurry-eyed squint at the clock by the couch states that gym class should be starting right about now.

No guilt sits in Joey as he misses a session with Mr. Buzz Cut Sunshine. The tall adolescent shrugs once he realizes that school is almost half way over. With sleep still wearing him down, Joey reaches for the tortilla chips that he was eating after Yugi ran off to school.

_Well, after Ryo shoved him out the door._

As he grasps blindly for the bag, Joey’s thoughts stretch back to the rough nights that Ryo has had. Those nights happen infrequently now, sometimes only once a week. But when Ryo does have them, Joey and Yugi, who both have taken up semi-permanent residence in Ryo’s apartment, spend the rest of the night and day there, distracting Ryo from his experiences.

Joey’s hand moves its search from the couch to the stand where those chips have to be.

_This is the first time Ryo didn’t want us around though._

The wispy boy’s quiet insistence that Yugi does not ruin his education for Ryo’s sake plays over again in Joey’s mind.

_Can’t blame him for being worried about Yugi’s grades, though. No one passes the exams just with some classmate’s hasty notes._

Joey had been the compromise. One person had to stay with Ryo, so why not the one who’s probably not heading to college anyways? Neither Ryo nor Yugi said that out loud of course, but the way that neither of them used Joey’s school attendance in their disagreement says enough. Joey does not even bother shrugging at this, though. Their expectations are nothing new.

When the only object that Joey’s hand finds for the fourth time is the clock on the stand, he actually looks in the direction of the tortilla chips. With a growl of his stomach and no sight of chips, Joey crouches to the floor searching for the snacks.

No chips under the table.

No chips behind the sofa.

No chips in the sofa.

No chips in his stomach.

With a groan, Joey heads towards the kitchen. There should be a new bag in there.

The blonde passes by Ryo’s open bedroom door. One glance reveals that Ryo is…not sitting on his bed and reading or anywhere else in the room. Joey stops, steps into the room and onto plush carpet, and looks to the open and empty bathroom. He steps back out, walks the rest of the way to the kitchen, resists the urge to open the cabinets to heavenly food, and looks around the room. In the empty kitchen, the teen intakes a deep breath. Hunger and traces of tiredness forgotten, Joey turns, ready to head towards the front door until he notices two things. Ryo’s shoes still sit on the wooden floor, and the door to the game room is ajar by a crack. It is usually never open at all.

As his feet carry him forward, Joey notices a faint tremble in his hand.

_It’s just a room, nothing more and nothing less. No big deal that Monster World took place there. No big deal at all._

Joey refuses to acknowledge that it takes him too long to push open the door.

The first sight that greets his eyes is the massive game board. From its place dominating the center of the room, it seems to reach for him. When Joey tears his gaze away from the behemoth, a flash of white over by the worktable at the far end of the room greets his vision. The white-haired boy has his back to Joey. Shoulders hunched and body leaning forward, the boy works on something hidden from sight. A pale hand darts to the side and grasps a small blue bottle before disappearing out of Joey’s sight again.

_See, there’s Ryo, nice and safe in the creepy game room that he hasn’t touched in weeks._

While the room’s odd coldness creeps over him, Joey’s eyes are drawn to the more gruesome monsters behind the cabinets’ glass doors.

_Yep, I’ll just be getting some tortilla chips from the kitchen._

Joey does not leave the room. He cannot really. Ryo might have heard him enter, and what kind of friend would Joey be if he snuck out of the room like a coward? The blonde takes a deep breath, places one foot forward, and calls out.

“Hey, Ryo, what’s up?”

The boy does not respond. Joey’s smile wilts as the white-haired one continues to work. Silence rings as the pace of Ryo’s fiddling increases, and Joey swears that he hears a soft scratching.

_No biggie. He’s probably too caught up in his work to pay attention._

Those tortilla chips call to Joey. They entice him into the safe confines of the ordinary kitchen. The Shadow Game veteran steps back with ears prickling from the new silence, for the scratching has stopped.

“Uh, Ryo, do you want anything from the kitchen?”

At the end of Joey’s question, a faint sound drifts through the cold air. A soft whimper.

The coldness latches onto Joey’s strong, quick steps. The chill does not come from the fear of Bakura’s return. It comes from weeks of nightmares and too many close calls and-

Joey’s hand is on Ryo’s shoulder before the “Ryo, are you alright?” fully escapes his mouth. Beneath the hand, Ryo’s shoulder tenses. Green eyes that appear almost yellow in the desk’s lamplight look up. The edges of those eyes are sharpened in surprise. Pale fingers of one hand are tightened around the handle of a small knife. The other hand clutches something close to Ryo’s chest.

It takes less than a second for Ryo to recognize Joey. Less than a second for the seated boy to turn his head so that the lamp’s influence fades and so that yellowish green morphs back into pale green.

The knife drops with a clatter on the table. The hand does not move away from Ryo’s chest.

“J-Joey. You startled me. When did you come in here?” The edges of green eyes soften.

Joey frowns in concern. “I was in here for a bit. Are you okay, Ryo? You didn’t respond when I called out.”

Ryo stares for a moment. “Sorry, Joey, I guess I didn’t hear you.” The boy looks down at the table. A small knife, a little paintbrush, and several other tools cast odd, dark shadows in the lamp’s light. A few of the shadows glance some boxy object covered by a white sheet.

Joey does not follow Ryo’s gaze.

“What were you doing over here?”

In response, the ghostly boy glances at his clutched hand. Slowly, he lifts the closed hand and opens it. Within his palm lays a small figurine.

“I was just fixing this.”

Joey stares at it. He knows that figurine. Cut it in half himself in Monster World. The eyeball monster has not changed much. Purple tentacles reminiscent of Medusa’s hair still surround a single bulbous eyeball. There are only two differences from the last encounter. Instead of staring out with petrifying malice, its eye is half-closed as if in pain. Also, it is no longer cut in half.

A small bead of sweat slides down the side of Joey’s face. “Uh, why did you fix one of Bakura’s freaky monsters?”

Ryo does not blink. Green eyes look from Joey to the figurine that lays in the paler one’s palm. There is not even a hairline down its surface.

“This is my game piece. I carved it with my own hands long before my Other Half claimed it as his own, so it is mine to fix. Besides, it is not _its_ fault that it was used by the Game Master in a Game of Shadows.” Ryo’s voice, which had been barely more than a whisper, climbs into a sharp, even tone. “It shouldn’t have to be damaged and discarded because of the shortcomings of its creator. That would be like punishing a child for his parent’s mistakes.”

Ryo’s downcast eyes are alight with some emotion that Joey cannot read. Joey’s own silence rings in his ears, so he dredges up a response.

“Uh, if that’s how you feel, Ryo, then…okay.” Joey’s next words are hastily made attempts to come up with something to keep the awkward silence at bay. “How did you fix and change it?” Pretty sure its eye was fully open before.” Joey’s stare glues to the figurine.

“It’s complicated.” Ryo does not look up at his friend.

Before Joey can come up with a response, a sharp knock from the front door draws Joey away from Ryo and into the hallway. His footsteps might be a little rushed as he puts distance between himself and the RPG room.

_Nah, just don’t want anyone to wait is all._

After Joey opens the front door, he really wishes he had taken a little longer in walking down the hall. Eyes made of hardened amethyst tear down any remnant of courage, and a shadowed figure with crossed arms taps his foot.

“Mr. Wheeler, not at school I see.”

Joey resists the urge to step back. Instead, he rubs the back of his head and grins sheepishly. “Yep, Gramps, just spending the day with Ryo. Yugi’s got it all set up at school, so it’s fine.”

Mr. Muto closes his eyes in thought. “Hmm. I see. So you’re spending the whole day off with your other upcoming duelist friend.”

Ryo peers around the RPG room’s doorway.

“Yet,” Mr. Muto continues with open, sharp eyes. “You did not think that instead of napping” Mr. Muto directs his glare at Joey’s bedhead. “or other lollygagging, you could have called me and have been practicing your dueling skills.”

A pause exists in too short of a space for Joey to unfreeze.

“Mr. Wheeler, I am disappointed in you. How can you expect to become a better duelist if you do not take every opportunity to increase your skills?” Mr. Muto steps forward, Joey stumbles back.

“But, Gramps, it’s only one day off. We’ve been practicing for weeks and weeks without any break-”

“So you thought you could take this day off?” Mr. Muto’s glare sharpens even more. “I’m sorry, Joseph, but there are no days off for a true gamer.”

Joey’s eep disappears under Ryo’s words. “That’s true. I spend every day at least thinking of strategies for Monster World, even if I’m not carving new figurines or building campaigns.”

Mr. Muto nods. Joey looks back over his shoulder.

“Hey, a little support here would be nice, pal.”

Ryo smiles. “But Mr. Muto has a good point.”

Before Joey can respond, he feels a tight pressure wrap around his lower arm. With a jerk, Mr. Muto hauls the squirming duelist to the small table in the living room.

“Ack!”

Mr. Muto ignores Joey’s protest. “Now we have a full day of instructions to fit into half a day.” Amethyst eyes glance back. “I suggest you prepare yourself, Joseph, because these will be the most intense instructions that you have ever received in your life.”

Ryo smiles faintly at Joey’s tears of horror.

* * *

 

“Now, Joey,” Mr. Muto’s toughened stare magnifies upon Joey. “What are the six types of trap cards?”

Joey fidgets. “Okay, Normal, Counter, Equip, and…um…Continuing?”

“Continuous, Joey, but you were close. What are the other two?”

The idiot scrunches up his face as he tries to remember something that Muto told him _ten minutes_ ago. “Ryo’s” soft smile almost cracks again. The couch where Bakura sits has long since gone from tolerably comfortable to completely torturous. The school hours ended long ago, and now the rest of Bakura’s evening stretches out endlessly before him like a wasteland. If it had just been Joey, Bakura could have found something flashy on TV so that the idiot would leave him to go back to the RPG Room. Instead, he is forced to sit on a stupidly soft couch while Muto and Joey stare at cards on the low table.

“They are called Trap Monster and Field Trap.” Apparently, Solomon’s patience remains endless as he calmly explains the differences between trap cards.

Bakura almost hisses when Joey nods. He cannot just shove Ryo into this since the boy still sleeps, and besides, there is something he needs to do before letting Landlord blunder his way through the rest of the day. On the kitchen table sits a jar of red powder that he should have taken care of hours ago. Now, it just waits for one of the mortals to grow hungry enough to go to the kitchen and find it.

_How hard would it truly have been to stuff the damn thing back into the cabinet._

Bakura berates himself as he stops his eyes from darting to the hallway. He resists the urge to grip the fabric of the couch, choosing to swallow instead. This is not a nervous tic; he needs some excuse for the question he is about to ask.

“Mr. Muto, Joey, would you two like something to drink?” Bakura ensures that his tone remains soft, yet not too weak. The last thing he needs is for one of them to offer to go instead.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Joey immediately responds without even looking his way.

Mr. Muto stays silent as he surveys “Ryo’s” expression. Bakura works to keep a hint of hope in his eyes without grimacing. Ryo might have been unwell for all those weeks, but having his friends help with everything is making the boy feel _so_ terrible. Cannot anyone see that?

And judging from the flicker of sympathy in Muto’s eyes, the old man has picked up on “Ryo’s” feelings.

“Some tea, or water, would be nice.” Muto’s face wrinkles into a smile, and his eyes twinkle.

But, the moment that Bakura stands, he knows that he has made a worse mistake than leaving the jar on the counter this morning. There is a reason why the couch has seemed so soft for the past half hour. The use of Shadow Magic earlier has exhausted him to the point that his eyes close over blurring vision. The next thing Bakura knows is Joey’s hand gripping his arm and the looming teen using his arm to brace the swaying Bakura.

“I’m fine.” Bakura forces those words out first to keep “ _Get your hands off me, mutt.”_ trapped in his head.

“No, you’re not.” Joey’s rapid-fire response is followed by a concerned frown that appears out of the corner of Bakura’s eyes. “You almost face-planted.”

“Help him back to the couch, Joseph.” Muto’s voice cuts through the haze that still plagues Bakura’s conscious.

“No, I’m fine, really. I just have been sitting down too long, that’s all.” This pleading burns Bakura’s throat, and it takes everything to not switch to threats instead. Yet, the urge to lie down remains too strong for threats of bodily injury to be either practical or wise.

“No buts, young man. I will go get the drinks.” Muto’s voice comes out stern, but the undercurrent of worry makes Bakura want to hiss. He is not weak; he does not need to be coddled. Even after the old man leaves the room, the urge to hiss does not dissipate.

“Do you need help sitting back down?” Joey’s words intensify the urge.

_No, the couch is right behind me, you nimrod. What do you think I am, a frail child?_

“No, Joey, I can manage,” Ryo says softly as bangs cover his eyes.

Joey releases Bakura’s arm, yet he still hovers as the dark spirit sits down. The adolescent is close enough that Bakura could stab him in the knee without trying. It takes a long, tempting minute for Joey to move out of immediate range and back to his spot by the table. The idiot tries to start a few conversations, but Bakura hides irritation behind listless drowsiness.

When the footsteps of the old man finally echo back down the hall, Bakura eyes the hallway entrance with caution. He doubts that the Game Shop owner would recognize the red powder for what it is, but one can never be too sure.

As the old, hunched man walks back into the living room, Bakura watches with eyes forced into a softened mien. The wish that the old man would be oblivious to the true contents of the jar dashes upon a hardened amethyst gaze that the poofy-haired idiot somehow misses.

“Oh cool, you found more chips.”

Bakura wants the shadows to wrap around Joey’s throat and _tear,_ but he settles for a weak smile that is meant to portray a worn out Ryo.

“Thank you, Mr. Muto, I haven’t been feeling well as of late.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” Even as Muto hands the bag to Joey, the old man’s eyes do not leave Bakura. “By the way, you had a few spices out, so I put them in one of the cabinets if you wish to reorganize them later.”

Joey does not notice the frozen smile and icy green eyes of his “friend” behind him. “Really? What were they?” Joey crunches a chip in his mouth. “Ryo made some delicious salsa before that he wouldn’t spill the secret ingredients of.”

Mr. Muto watches for the quick strikes of a cornered snake. “I’m sure that your friend, Ryo, deserves to keep some secrets to himself.” It is not a peace offering or permanent negotiation, but merely a call to a temporary truce until Joey is out of the picture.

Bakura who is not strong enough to fight off even two mortals- not after fixing Roku- morphs the smile into a thoughtful expression that deters any further questions from Joey.

Within minutes, Joey would have noticed the staring contest occurring over his head if not for the fact that he ends up snoozing against the wall that he had been sitting by. The quick onset of the idiot’s nap is too unnatural to be anything but a stolen ingredient from Bakura’s collection.

“It isn’t proper to steal.” Hair stays flat and voice is kept in Ryo’s tone, but amber eyes focus on Mr. Muto.

“It isn’t proper to use Shadow magic around guests.” The old man wrinkles his nose as though he can smell it in the air. Bakura knows some people can, so that might not be a show.

“He’s no guest of mine.” Bakura places his palms on his knees to hide the tremble of fatigue in his hands. From the sharpening of Mr. Muto’s eyes though, Bakura quickly knows the futility of the gesture. “However, he is a guest of Ryo’s, so I won’t use Shadow magic _on_ him.”

From his spot by the table with the arrayed Duel Monsters cards, Mr. Muto crosses his arms and stares with a penetrating amethyst glare. “That’s not the reason.”

No, that is not the reason. Bakura is still weakened from his game with the Pharaoh and his pack of friends. However, thoughts of the Pharaoh and the _humiliation_ of loosing to him make Bakura tighten his grip and deepen his voice.

“Don’t test me, mortal.” The words scratch at the ears. “You may know about the Shadows, but don’t presume that you can take on an owner of a Millennium Item.”

Mr. Muto exhales with harshness. “I am not testing you. Judging from your pallor and aura, I doubt that you even have the energy to deal with an amateur such as myself, let alone my angry grandson.” Those eyes are piercing. “Besides, I have not come here to fight. I merely came here to ask a few questions and to give a friendly warning.”

One eyebrow raises at the word _warning_ , but Mr. Muto does not elaborate.

“I always wondered why Dr. Bakura stopped visiting his own museum. I suspected that someone had to have taken over, but I couldn’t think of who would pretend to be him.” The Game Shop owner’s tone is light in mood yet carries the weight of more sentences, but Bakura cuts in.

“Was he a friend?” A dark undercurrent surges through the question. Even if Bakura descended into a coma, enough darkness could be dredged up to deal with a family friend.

Mr. Muto’s eyes soften instead of hardening more. “Dr. Bakura, yes. The demon that devoured him almost a decade ago, no.” The eyes have a sorrow to them, but that disappears as the man continues. “I suppose I have you to thank for making the museum safe enough to take my grandson to for these past few years.” The old man does not say any apologies or inquiries about Bakura’s family. Whether that’s out of courtesy or the touch of madness in amber eyes stays out of Bakura’s reach.

“You mentioned a warning.” The tone cuts through the formation of any more pleasantries.

The stony hardness of before returns to Mr. Muto’s gaze and his frown deepens. “Yes, I did. Simply put, even if you might be a piece of Ryo, don’t expect tolerance if you harm those under my care.”

The threat against himself and his lighter half should anger Bakura, but the old man left too much of an opening in that wannabe threat. “You mean that I should behave just as much as your grandson does.” The light tone in Ryo’s voice causes suspicion to creep into Mr. Muto’s eyes. The man twitches when Bakura stands.

“So, if someone takes my spot in a school event, I can light them on fire or, if they happen to steal a meaningless game, I can rip out their heart?” Ryo’s smile can be very useful for instances like these. It helps to hold back the laughter.

The dark look that passes by Mr. Muto’s face would have been more threatening if there was not that flash of shame that it squashed out. “My grandson’s other half is young and is gaining more control of himself as time passes. You are old enough to know better.”

At those words, Bakura picks up half empty bags and a few cups and then walks to the hallway. “Even so,” He stops at the hallway entrance and glances back. “I did not have that high of a body count in my first months. Of course, Mother was a bit more watchful than more lacking parents.” For a second, Bakura cannot decide whether or not he should add anything, but that last dig stings in the same way a Monster World super critical does.

“Even if they are inexperienced children,” The Ring Spirit pauses in the doorway at Mr. Muto’s words. “At least Yugi has his friends to reign him in.”


	5. Chapter 4

_Noon_

Tristan hates Monster World. The unofficially required two hours of gameplay are over the top. And, those little figurines are too round. If someone were forced into one of them, it would be impossible to run around in those chubby little feet. The prepackaged villain monsters are grotesque enough, but the fact that a Game Master can make their own just makes it worse. Any freak can carve some nightmare that will show up in your dreams for weeks.

Yes, Tristan hates Monster World. Hates it with a blood boiling passion that makes him almost demand Mr. Muto to stop selling the game in his store. Tristan might be a little biased. Maybe being shoved into a plastic body by a white-haired demon called Bakura colored Tristan’s perception a tad. Maybe getting stabbed in the head with spikes from one of those grisly traps and somehow not dying as he ran around with a _gaping, frickin hole in his head_ made him a touch twitchy to the sight of the game.

Fingers tighten on paper pages. Nah, that couldn’t be it.

With this hatred towards the game stomping around in Tristan’s head, why on earth is he now reading a creature and class type book for Monster World? The answer to that sits across the room and on her bed. She absently nibbles on the end of the yellow ribbon that hangs from her periwinkle hair. The girl’s purple eyes scan the words within the leather-bound book that she holds. The dark brown cover contrasts nicely with the light, delicate fingers that brush against its pages and with the bunched up green shirt that lifts just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

Tristan gulps and looks back from the girl with her old, German book on divination to a picture of a gypsy girl, drawn closer to human proportions than any of the figurines are. She dances across the guidebook’s page in little more than two vertical scarfs on her chest and a long skirt. Miho was a gypsy. In that horrid little world where Tristan was a chubby, shirtless gunman and plastic monsters could blast you away, Miho, the girl whose bare lower legs wave in the air as she lies on her belly, was a gypsy girl who could influence the die roll with her luck talent.

_Was? No, is._

Tristan clenches the pages again. Here is another reason why he hates Monster World. The game clings to you long after you have stopped playing. Not even a week after that RPG, the oddities had started to manifest themselves. During the game, Bakura had stabbed right through the hand of his resisting host. Before the week was up, the gaping hole in Ryo’s hand had closed to the point that only two shallow wounds remained. The powers of the boy’s character, a self-healing wizard, had manifested themselves outside of the game. It did not take long for Miho’s luck charm to follow suit.

_"Two days later, Miho found three hundred dollars just sitting on the ground outside the school gate. Then, the results for the sweepstakes that Miho always likes to enter came back." As she talks, her purple eyes travel from person to person until they settle on Ryo._

_"There have been three prizes so far. Miho now has a four thousand dollar coupon for that high-end clothing store a few blocks from Black Rose Academy, two free plane tickets for a month long trip for my mother and I in Paris, and a new Mercedes that Miho will somehow convince her parents to let her drive really, really soon."_

Tristan frowns. His friends were so excited by these “magic powers.” Who wouldn’t be? But they didn’t get it. They got these powers from a Shadow Game, and judging from the tidbits that Tristan had gleaned from both Other Yugi and Bakura’s explanations, that was dark magic bordering on inherently evil. You had to be naïve to think there was not a cost to that.

Tristan glances over the list of Gypsy Talents: Luck, Minor Spells, Communication with Spirits, Curses.

_What sort of spirits would a girl powered by dark magic attract?_

Tristan looks up. Plans to draw Miho away from these books wither when he focuses on her. An absent-minded smile graces her lips. She must have uncovered something that fascinated her because she giggles shortly after.

Tristan’s throat dries. Maybe he will distract her later.

The phone rings, and a soft harp noise flitters across the room. Miho taps her phone and the noise ends.

“Hello?” As she shifts to sitting, an unread Romani book beside her almost slides off the bed. “Mrs. Gardner, hi.”

Tristan watches the girl sit up straighter.

“Tea…Tea’s still sleeping. Is it alright if Miho doesn’t wake her? She looks really comfortable.” Miho meets Tristan’s eyes. A spark of concern ignites in her purple irises. Tea did not spend the night at Miho’s, and Tristan was almost certain that his friend was going to spend the weekend at her parent’s place instead of at Ryo’s with the others.

“Ok. Miho will be sure she gets home before Monday, bye, bye.” A button is pressed, and Miho stares at Tristan in silence. He holds out his hand and she gives him her phone. It only takes one ring before Yugi picks up.

“Is Tea with you right now? Her mom said that she never went home last night…”

Miho ends up clinging to Tristan’s back as his motorcycle races across Domino. Unfortunately, worry makes it hard to appreciate her warm arms around him.

* * *

 

They all have their places. Ryo and Miho sit on opposite ends of the couch while Tristan leans on the wall next to the girl. Joey stands closest to Yugi. Only a few feet closer and they would be within reaching distance. Still, they are enough distance apart that it is easy to tell that Yugi is the center of attention.

Crimson eyes stare out at the others. Perhaps, it is not Yugi who is the focus after all.

“Who saw her last?” The Dark Yugi’s voice slides through the air like usual, but razor edges slice with it.

“I last saw her leave the classroom,” Tristan grimly says. His gaze rests warily on Dark Yugi, who stares back without blinking.

“Miho saw her in the library when Miho was checking out books. She was talking to Hanasaki.” Miho winces when Dark Yugi meets her eyes. His face lacks expression.

“Maybe, she went home with Hanasaki and lost track of time.” Joey throws out. He does not believe his own words, but maybe Yugi will consider them enough to calm down a bit. No, that is not right. The crimson-eyed boy does not yell or pace like someone angry or upset would, but…He is too still, like a statue carved from ice. When Dark Yugi looks Joey’s way, those eyes are too empty, not hollow like Ryo’s had gotten, but empty of humanity.

“Perhaps, but that would not explain why she hasn’t answered her phone.” Something flickers in Dark Yugi’s eyes.

_“Hanasaki might know a bit more than we do. At least, he could tell us where he last saw her.”_

Yugi’s subdued thoughts step softly in their shared mind. Tea is more than a friend. Before the Puzzle, she was the only one who rescued Yugi from the bullies that used to plague him. She is also the first, and only, crush that he has ever had.

Dark Yugi breathes in and out. Tries to put on a more expressive face for one of those breaths before deciding that that is a waste of time. The choice on what to say next is not made before Tristan musters up a sentence.

“Maybe the Ring came back.” Tristan resists swallowing when Dark Yugi looks up at him. Those eyes send shivers down Tristan’s spine; however, the feelings of fear are nowhere near as strong as when the brunette last saw the Ring. They had just gotten it off of Ryo when the damn thing had burned through its own rope and cartwheeled out of the apartment. Nightmares of that ordeal still haunt Tristan, and he often expects to hear the clinking of metal spines as soon as he opens his front door each morning.

“No.” Ryo’s voice, although quiet, carries throughout the room. “It wouldn’t have attacked her yet. Not when we’re still expecting him to come back.”

The Ring is not responsible. That only leaves a few possibilities, a couple of suspects. New elements are analyzed and only one, the foreigner, is found to be out of place. Something clicks and crimson eyes flicker to Ryo before Dark Yugi speaks. To Ryo’s credit, his calm visage does not waver one bit in the face of Dark Yugi’s attention.

“I know who’s responsible for this.” Dark Yugi’s voice stays quiet, controlled; yet Yugi senses the searing spark of realization.

“Wait, what?” Joey’s contribution makes no impact on Dark Yugi’s attention.

_“You do?”_

Yugi’s comment, on the other hand, reaches the Other’s awareness. Even so, it does not elicit a response, at least, not until one more fact is confirmed.

“You saw her after class, correct?”

Miho manages to nod in the force of Dark Yugi’s stare.

“The transfer student, Klamath Olser, insisted on drawing my attention immediately after class.” Even though the sparks that Yugi sensed before intensify, Dark Yugi’s tone remains even. Still, one of the fingers of his crossed arms twitches.

The momentary silence does not even pretend to be surprised. It only exists for enough time for Tristan to mutter, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“This insistence lasted barely long enough for us to properly converse after our we had duel.” Razor edges slice each word. “Curiously enough, he received a phone call just about the time Tea would have gotten home.”

_“It might have been coincidence.”_ The hesitation amongst his own words signals Yugi’s reluctance to believe them.

“Are you frickin’ kidding me? What is this, a thing now?” Tristan scowls. “Hey, guys, I wonder who kidnapped Yugi’s grandpa. Oh, look, it was the transfer student. Hey, guys, who set up that killer game? Let me guess, the transfer student.” After his rant, Tristan’s eyes flicker to Ryo.

“Um, I was still talking about Kaiba and Death-T.”

“It’s okay.” Ryo looks resigned to his place on the transfer student list. “I wasn’t offended.”

The empty space where Tea would berate Tristan for his insensitivity grows only as much as Dark Yugi allows.

“Although I agree with Tristan that this is becoming rather _annoying_ ,” The tone dictates that their class will never see a transfer student again. “we need to focus on finding Tea.”

_“I presume it reasonable to expect that she was taken on her way home?”_ The dark half’s question flashes through Yugi’s thoughts.

_“Maybe, but it could have happened while she was with Hanasaki.”_ A pause in Yugi’s response is filled in by his Other’s conclusion.

_“So, they may have been taken together.”_

The phone is in his hand before the others can register. A few nimble taps and the phone rings. Joey, about to ask who Yugi is calling, finds himself frozen shut by an idle crimson gaze. He’ll let Yugi finish that call first.

“Hello, this is Yugi Muto.”

A woman’s voice murmurs out of the phone.

“It is a pleasure to talk to you too. Forgive my abruptness, but is Hanasaki home?”

The phone murmurs more.

“Oh, I see. Well, I hope that he is enjoying his day out with his father.”

A few more murmurs.

“Oh, it isn’t any rush. I will call back tomorrow…Thank you for your time, good bye Mrs. Hanasaki.” Dark Yugi pockets the phone.

“She left the school grounds, so that leaves us from the front gate to her bus stop and then from her other bus stop to her home.” Crimson eyes flicker to each tensed person.

“Shall we go then?” Ryo says, his quiet carrying throughout the room.

Dark Yugi nods, crimson eyes alight.

* * *

 

The fact that a tape recorder hangs from the second lamppost before the bus stop is now an accepted fact of life. A flock of sharpened, weary eyes glare at the offending object. The hand that snatches it down is the same hand that has crushed minds for lesser offenses.

Dark Yugi turns it once in his hands. The others crowd around him. No one quite touches another, but loose shirtsleeves almost graze against each other. Except for crimson that hides its thoughts, each pair of eyes stares with apprehension. Dark Yugi presses play.

_“If you found this, you have been exposed to waayyy too many kidnappings.”_ Amusement toys with each word, and Dark Yugi’s hand tightens.

_“Don’t crush it.”_ Yugi’s inner voice reaches high enough to draw attention but stays low enough to not intrude on the recording.

_“Since you did find it though, here are the answers you don’t want to hear. Yes, I took your friend, and yes, I want something in exchange for a guarantee of her safety.”_

Apprehension has faded into burning anger within Joey and Tristan’s eyes while worry still lingers in Miho’s. Ryo’s eyes are guarded while his lips turn slightly in a frown.

_“What I want is very easy for you to obtain. It’s gold, glints when it really shouldn’t, and tends to darken the room far more than necessary…”_ A pause. _“If you didn’t get it by now, yes, I, just like who cares how many others, want your Millennium Puzzle. And all you have to do is take your Item, stick it in a box, and leave it right under this lamppost. Within a day or two, your friend Tea will find her way home safe and relatively sound.”_

_“Now, let me set this straight.”_ Amusement hardens. _“This isn’t a game. I’m not going to show up and challenge you to a game of chance that you will win. If you disagree with these terms, then you have three days to change your mind. Or maybe more time, cool weather does slow down the effects of dehydration.”_ The recorder clicks.

Silence resides in everyone’s ears and thoughts. Crimson eyes blink once. An emotion enters then flits away to be replaced by the next and the next until one settles in. The laugh that comes bubbles out like molten gold and sears away the silence. The others stare, too stunned to move away, too unnerved to reach out. Except Joey. He shifts forward, but Ryo’s hand brushes the arm of his evergreen jacket, and Joey’s attention is drawn to green eyes filled with warning.

Before questions can be asked, the laughter stops, and everyone focuses on the crimson-eyed darkness that stares at the recorder with a touch of amusement.

“This isn’t a game you say?” The words are too low and fond to slide through the air. “Yet, you have threatened my friend.” The smirk that curls on Dark Yugi’s visage causes Miho to shiver once he meets her eyes.

“Miho, have you been researching more about Gypsy Magic?” Dark Yugi tilts his head. Miho nods quickly.

“How good are they at divination?” The Puzzle glints with the question, and a simple game of hide and seek begins.

* * *

 

The sun shines bright above the grey overcast that shadows the suburbs below. Even though it is far past noon, no one stirs from behind reflective windows and no cars idly drive down the streets. Only a single pair of shoes that tread down the sidewalk can be heard over the occasional moans of the breeze.

As the walker turns down a path that leads to one of the houses, two spikes of black hair point up in a wide “V.” When he reaches the shaded doorstep, the boy’s orange eyes darken in the low light. Once inside, the boy sniffs the air. A couple of sniffs later, the boy ignores the empty, darkened rooms in favor of the kitchen. Like the other rooms, there are no working lights, but enough sunlight filters through the window to give the room muted colors.

Fogged green eyes watch the kitchen doorway as the boy walks through. They glow the same color that they would under a summer sun. The owner of those eyes smiles as he leans back in his chair and places a spotless, empty can of squid on the counter. Orange eyes glance to the probably licked-clean can.

“Hey, Klamath, how did it go yesterday?” Fogged green glints with interest.

“I lost,” huffs Klamath. He lets his duffel bag drop to the floor. The kid’s shoes scuff the tiles as he shuffles into a chair.

The one with fogged green eyes leans his chair forward. Long black hair sways from the motion then settles. “That’s to be expected. None of us have ever beaten Seto Kaiba, so how could you win against the one who beat him?”

Klamath stares at the table. “But you survived five turns, and he had to use crush card on you. I got beat by Beaver Warrior and Mirror Force.”

The chuckle from across the table causes Klamath’s glare to snap up. “Coppermine, it isn’t funny!”

Green sparks and Pete Coppermine grins. “It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not. It’s insulting.” Klamath straightens his slouched shoulders. “That Yugi doesn’t even get what beating me means. I destroyed the Los Angeles Prize Tournament. How could any professional not know about me?” The duelist bristles. “You know what, I shouldn’t be surprised. The kid acts like he’s been living under a rock. He doesn’t even know how famous he is.”

Coppermine leans back in his chair. “So, he doesn’t know what a Card Professor is.”

The thoughtful words do not even enter Klamath’s bubble. “He should have asked me to give him a tour of the dueling world for his favor.”

“His what?” The words lash out and knock out Klamath’s rant.

Klamath’s eyes widen when they notice the blank expression of his companion.

“Umm, you said to keep him distracted, so I thought that a small wager would keep him really interested…” Klamath swallows when Coppermine’s expression changes to something Klamath doesn’t recognize. “I left before he could ask for anything,” the boy continues quickly.

Coppermine remains quiet. In the muted room, his eyes glow as the only spot of color. “You’re no longer needed here, so why don’t you catch a flight back home.” The given smile cannot reach the eyes.

Klamath twitches. “But…What about the girl?” He glances at the ceiling. “Don’t you need help when she wakes up?”

“Not really, I was just being polite by including you.” Coppermine leans closer, and his eyes grow a tad wider. “But now, you owe a Shadow Gamer a favor, and he will be able to use that against you whether or not you ever played a Shadow Game. So, since you’re compromised and are very likely to get us both killed or _worse_ , you can run on home.”

Klamath leans back as a faint stench of canned squid washes over him.

“Deschutes doesn’t want us taking each other out, so it’s best if you go _now_.”

Questions of ‘What do you mean?’ and “What did I do?” do not even cross Klamath’s mind as he jumps out of his chair. With the quick thuds of steps and the pattering of a heart, the boy’s bag sits forgotten on the floor, and the front door sways on its hinges.

Coppermine sits in his chair. His frown pulls slightly at the edges of his mouth. Klamath should make it to the airport before the Puzzle owner can find him, so the plan is still on track. But…

Coppermine pulls a remote out of his pocket and clicks a few buttons. Somewhere, something in the house blinks on.

…it is better to be safe than sorry.

* * *

 

Her wrists ache. Numbness tingles at the end of her fingers as Tea takes notice of the dull pain. Her neck aches too, but she does not move to roll the pain out. She refuses to open her eyes as, piece by piece, her awareness comes back to her.

There is a chair; she is sitting in a chair while her bare feet rest on a carpeted floor. Her hands are tied behind her back with a circulation-cutting rope, and her ankles are unbound.

_Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out._

She has been kidnapped. Tea remembers this. She remembers that guy with fogged green eyes as he speaks her name. How long had he been waiting for her to head down that street and to “accidently” run into him?

Ears prickle as Tea tries to discern whether someone else lurks in the room. Aside from the sound of her uneven, quiet breaths, no other noise exists around her. Still, her eyes stay closed.

_Come on, Tea. Open your eyes. You’re not getting out of here if you don’t toughen up._

When she lifts her head to straighten her neck, enough courage is dredged up to force her eyes open. Fogged green eyes sit inches from her true-blue ones. Their pupils are slits.

“Aaah!” She pushes back, but a hand reaches out and clamps down on the arm of the chair before it can fall.

“Good afternoon.” The amused glint in those eyes does nothing to stop Tea’s panicked gasps.

Tea says nothing, just keeps breathing heavily until her heart slows down and pulls her breaths with it. She has seen worse. This kidnapper does not tower over her while his horns stab into the air. There is no an eye embedded in his chest that will blast a wall of all-consuming dark fire at her and her friends.

In an odd moment of sanity, Tea finds herself glad that she faced the Dark Master Zorc, Ruler of Monster World.

“What are you?” Breaths come out even. Voice stays calms. It even carries an undertone of demand.

The stranger grins. “Good, I see you already know the rules. A duelist is hardly ever a who.” He leans closer by a minute inch. His breath smells of squid. “Wow, your heart has calmed down quite a bit.” His voice then drops to a whisper. “What have you been through?”

Tea resists the urge to swallow or move back. A trickle of sweat runs down her face. After a length of silence, the stranger leans back. Tea almost breathes in relief when he does.

“Don’t want to answer?” He stares and shrugs. “Okay. How about if I feed you?” He pulls a sealed bag of pretzels and a closed bottle of water off the floor beside him and holds them up. His eyes close when he smiles.

_What?_

The question must be written on her face because it does not take him long to speak again.

“I need to keep you well fed and not dead. Your midget friend won’t be able to do _that_ many horrible things to me as long as I don’t do anything permanent to you.” The kind smile fades. “That’s how the Magic works anyway.”

“Wait, you’re after Yugi?” Tea’s fingers clench.

“No, not quite.” The kidnapper’s eyes glint. “I’m after his Puzzle.”

One spark, then two, then anger strikes up from within Tea. For more than a moment, the girl wishes that she was back in Monster World where she could feel the magic well up inside of her then explode out of her staff and at her enemies with their smug expression.

“What gives you the right to kidnap me and demand that Yugi gives you his Puzzle.” The barb is not a question.

_What gives any of these intruders the right to take Yugi’s cards, or his grandpa, or anything from us._

Before her next words can leave her mouth, Tea’s thoughts flicker to Ryo and to the pieces of memory and mind that he has lost to people like this. The flicker distracts her enough for the stranger to speak.

“Survival.” Any trace of good-humor has vanished from the stranger’s face. “Me and my friends have the right to survival, and that can now only be maintained by acquiring the Puzzle.”

Tea blinks. Anger halts.

“You see, this word is a little more _complicated_ than you know. There are nice little surprises lurking in the dark.” He leans forward again. “I’m guessing that you met a few of them by now.”

A shiver crawls down her spine and a flash of Bakura, amber-eyed and grinning as he tears her soul from her body, shoots through Tea’s mind.

“Whatever you have seen, that’s just the start. Once news of what that friend of yours possesses travels just a little bit further, a lot of those surprises are going to come running up to your door, and they’re not going to go through nice negotiations like this. They’ll just take what they want, no matter who they have to tear through.” Fogged eyes glow. “Trust me. I’m doing you a favor by taking that Item now.”

Not a thought stays still enough in her head for Tea to speak. Her heart pounds because, if he is speaking the truth, than people like Bakura and Kaiba are just the beginning. How could they handle more of this? Even the levelheaded Tristan has nightmares a few times a week of what they all have been through. And Ryo… can he survive more of this? Her heart throbs so loudly in her ears that Tea tries to force it to calm so that she can think. Instead, something in the pocket of her skirt beeps and beeps and shrilly beeps in time with her heart.

The stranger twitches.

“What is that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The few paragraphs about Miho finding three hundred dollars and such is taken from the prequel to this story, The Ghost. I wrote the Eye of Lose so that is not necessary to read the prequel to enjoy it, but there will be some events and characters referenced that are covered in more detail and/or introduced more completely in the Ghost.


	6. Chapter 5

“What is that?” Miho leans in close to Ryo as she points out a symbol on her book’s page. She tries to whisper, but rust coats the girl’s ability to speak quietly, so a stage whisper reaches out to Yugi instead.

Even the boy’s star-shaped hair droops. He really should not have expected Miho to have studied divination. Luck charms and love spells possess a far stronger pull to a schoolgirl with unrequited crushes and an affection for sweepstakes, so, naturally, that was what Miho had obsessed over for the past several weeks.

Yugi sighs and stares past Tristan, Miho, and Ryo as they look through books on Gypsy magic. No anger resides in him at Miho’s actions. How was she supposed to know that they would need to find a missing friend? Still, disappointment weighs down his shoulders.

_Tea is probably terrified right now._

A hand pats his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Yug. I’m sure that it won’t be long before they find a good spell.” Joey’s words reach out, but Yugi barely hears them. Somehow though, he manages to nod.

At the nod, Joey continues to talk, but Yugi finds himself focusing inward. A disquieting emptiness fills his head, and every time he thinks, each thought seems to bounce off a solid wall within his mind. Yugi’s head has been like this ever since Miho admitted that she would have to search through the several books she had for a divination spell. His Other Self had been in control up until that point, but a moment past Miho’s admission, the Other Yugi had vanished back into whatever part of Yugi’s mind in which he dwelled. The switch had been so quick that Yugi had almost stumbled to the floor.

A thought occurs to Yugi. Maybe his Other Self had receded because he did not want others to see his reaction.

_“Are you angry?”_ The thought reaches out tentatively, but it glances off the same wall as the others.

Yugi crosses his arms in front of his chest. It is odd to think that where Yugi feels no anger, his Other Self might. They had to have been the same person at one point, and Yugi knows that he would not have felt that kind of anger even before he obtained the Puzzle. Or maybe he had felt anger in bad situations and had just pushed it down.

Yugi sighs and deepens his frown. The burden of his thoughts tightens his arms around himself to the point that they almost hurt. The fabric of his shirt stands no chance of protecting his chest from the pressure, and, as he presses tighter, the rough, hard texture of his skin pushes against his arms.

_No, wait….that’s not right._

Yugi looks down. His arms uncross, and he pulls the collar of his shirt away from himself. Underneath the white shirt, a dark leather vest hugs his chest and torso. Yugi blinks slowly. He definitely did not put that on this morning.

“ _Um, Other Me, did you do this?”_

Silence surrounds the wall.

For the first time since Tea’s disappearance, Yugi does not think of her. Instead, he racks his brain for when he even bought this vest. Nothing is found, and the boy is torn between asking Joey if he has worn this before and keeping quiet about it until his Other Self resurfaces. Before he decides, Yugi searches himself for anything else that he may have not put on this morning.

A thin silver chain glints from the white shirt’s pocket. Yugi hesitates for a moment before he pulls the silver strand out. The short chain might be long enough to fit around his wrist, but its length does not interest him as much as the object that dangles from it.

A heart-shaped device shivers on the end of the strand. It is the same one that Tea had given him one morning before school. At that time, she had explained to him a popular love game that involved devices called Lovely Twos. These devices went off whenever a person that was a match for you and had one of them walked past. Yugi used to wear this every day until Ryo’s hardships had distracted him enough so that he neglected to carry it on him.

Yet, Tea had given this to Yugi because she liked him. Whether liked him as a friend or _liked_ him is still unknown to Yugi. Regardless, she had sweetly smiled at him when she had handed him the love game.

_How could I have forgotten about a gift like this? And now she is missing and who knows where she is or how she’s doing. She could be tied up somewhere, terrified…_

The recording said that they only had as long as until the effects of dehydration kicked in.

A surge of desolation starts in Yugi’s heart and wells up in his eyes. He does not make a sound, so Joey, who had long since looked over to where Miho and the others are reading, does not notice and can do nothing to stop the desolation from sinking further into Yugi’s heart.

The wall cracks, and, with no more than a whisper, the Other Yugi’s presence blooms in Yugi’s mind and then descends upon his most recent memories. The tears are shocked out of existence as Yugi’s body trembles with an almost completed attempt to take over. When the lack of an immediate threat has been confirmed, the Other Yugi recedes slightly, his thoughts brushing against Yugi’s.

_“We have worn that every day, even after Monster World.”_

Yugi straightens in surprise at his Other’s low tone.

_“You put it on each day.”_ The realization weighs oddly in Yugi’s mind.

Yugi’s Other Self’s thoughts recede a little more but then return. On them, Yugi can sense a weight of nervousness as palpable as a thick coat, unlike the barely existent hints of other emotions that his Other Self had let slip through.

_“Yes.”_

_“So, you really like her.”_ Yugi’s thoughts are soft. Maybe there is not too much of a disconnect between them.

_“Yes. But not like you do.”_ The thoughts are slow, like it takes every bit of his Other’s effort to let them slip past. _“I can’t feel sad that she has been taken.”_ Something sears within their mind, but then the same veil the Other Yugi always uses engulfs the stray emotion. _“Anger. I can only hate the one who took her. I can only feel frustrated at Miho’s lack of foresight.”_

Then there is silence. Silence that stretches as each half observe the other’s obscured thoughts and feelings.

_“So, I stole the ability to feel sad, and you got stuck with every bit of anger that I ignored.”_ Regret intertwines with Yugi’s thoughts. _“Sorry, can you take any of it back?”_ he asks.

Shock pushes out from his Other’s presence. Disbelief at Yugi’s lack of fear and his presence of empathy follows in its wake.

“I got it!”

With those words, Miho guarantees that nonverbal, half-thought up responses are postponed ‘til who knows when. Tea is far more important than this odd exchange between the two.

* * *

 

As Yugi moves out of the way far too easily, his darkness settles uneasily back into control. The Other Self’s recent admissions leave him feeling rough rub marks within, and the feeling almost makes him snatch away Yugi’s memories of the last few moments and stuff them into the same room that he has shoved all the other stolen memories. He would have… he would have taken his light’s memories if Yugi had not reacted with regretful words instead of wariness. Dark Yugi had expected his other side to show at least a hint of fear, and, because of that, the dark half has to work hard to keep the unbalanced emotions hidden behind his neutral mask.

He stands and walks over to the group. A shift behind him says that Joey follows.

“‘This spell only requires a map, a string, and a piece of the missing person’s valuables,’” Miho reads. She looks up, her eyes shining with delight as she meets a crimson gaze. No confusion or hesitation enters her voice or face.

“We can print off a map using my laptop,” Ryo adds. Green eyes glance at Dark Yugi for a breath before refocusing on Miho. The tension in a spiky-haired body loosens since even the owl-eyed Ryo does not notice any vulnerability.

“I’ll get a string.” As always, Tristan volunteers to fetch Miho’s wants.

Joey fidgets from behind Dark Yugi. ”So, what are we going to use as Tea’s valuable?” His question is one of curiosity and was never meant to point out something they lacked.

“Damn it, I don’t know. Does anyone have anything?” Tristan scowls as he waits for an answer.

Miho shakes her head while Joey narrows his eyes.

“We could break into her house,” the sharp-eyed blonde says.

Inside, Yugi cringes at the thought of running into her parents while doing that. His darkness dismisses the suggestion though because it takes too long to get from Ryo’s house to Tea’s home.

The Lovely Two still shivers at the end of its chain as Dark Yugi holds it up.

“This technically isn’t hers, but it may work.” The low tones give way to a slide. It will work. If the Puzzle has shown him anything, it is that, whether an actual foe or an incorrect piece of a spell, any threat to the unity his friends and him share will fall easily to its power.

A few minutes later, the heart-shaped device dangles from the end of Miho’s ribbon above the map of Domino that Tristan had printed off the web. Miho does not speak as she glances at the spell’s instructions one more time before swinging the device over the map in a few large circles. On the second swing, the girl bites her lip.

On the third swing, the device sets off like a telltale heart.

* * *

 

The stranger’s hands are quick, and even though Tea tries to shove the chair back again to stall the inevitable, his hand already reaches into her skirt pocket before she can do much more than twitch. The pressure against her thigh actives the desire to bite down _hard_ on the man’s ear, but he leans his head away from her before a gnash of teeth can draw blood. Two shrill beeps later and he has drawn back; the Lovely Two that she always, always wears dangles in-between the grip of his thumb and middle and ring fingers.

She glares at him and somehow makes the blue of her eyes glow with fire as he stares at the dangling heart. As it beeps and beeps, Tea’s heart flutters. The last time that beeped, the Other Yugi was using it to find the second one of the pair after it had been hidden away by a cruel teacher.

_If it’s beeping, he must be near here right now._

“YUGI! I AM RIGHT HE-”

There is no warning. Only a hand firmly against her mouth and fogged green aglow unnaturally so.

“ _Quiet_.” He whispers with a hand gripping her arm hard enough to darkly bruise it and a voice that hisses too much to be human. Tea quiets. Who wouldn’t while staring into eyes bordering on completely empty?

* * *

 

Miho gasps at the erratic beeps, and her grip loosens. But then Dark Yugi’s hand latches out and tightens around hers, and, even though the ribbon descends an inch, it does not leave their grasp. However, the jostle does nothing though to stop it from swinging its perfect circle, whose radius has begun to shrink. While both hands are forced to stay steady, the ribbon defies normal rules, the center of the circle moving across the map and the upper part of the ribbon bending at a crooked angle.

* * *

 

Thankfully, it is only a flicker of time before he removes his too-strong-of grip from her arm and his hand from her mouth. Tea is not stupid enough to speak, but the beeps help hope into her chest. Even if she cannot yell out, there is no doubt that the Other Yugi will find her.

The kidnapper stands and steps away from Tea. Fogged green eyes study the Lovely Two for one more moment before it slips from his grasp. It hits the floor, but the beeps still ring out in defiance. The crunch of a heel against plastic and metal silences that.

Tea does not speak or cry out. The stranger’s eyes are too reminiscent of the emptiness that Kaiba possessed when he sentenced her and her friends to die at Death-T, yet, even when the stranger grabs the arm of her chair and stares at her with that emptiness, blue eyes glow with anger.

The stranger says nothing. He watches her while his mouth sets into a neutral line. His thoughts are unclear as he steps back, turns around, and walks out of the room. From behind him, Tea glares through stray strands of hair, and she knows that he must feel the message burn into his back.

_Yugi will find us._

* * *

 

The Puzzle glints as the Lovely Two swings in tighter circles and beeps louder. The only part of Domino within the circle now is a small suburb that exists near the outskirts of the city. The circle starts to shrink again, but then the beeps cut off. The silence rings as the Lovely Two sways back to the center of the map and dangles limply.


	7. Ch. 6

When Seto Kaiba had stripped away Gozaburo’s power and had dismantled the century-old military company, he did more than spit on its memory by reassembling the pieces into a gaming industry. There are scars all over the world from the conversion. None of these scars are tainted with the same burnt ruins that the military KaibaCorp left behind, but they are still scars all the same. 

Take the New Era subdivision on the outskirts of Domino. Empty and half built, this community had been the sign of a new age of militarism. With the genius Seto Kaiba ready to take the throne beside his stepfather, the company was preparing the homes for the ever-increasing KaibaCorp workforce.

That is until Seto Kaiba revealed his true goals for the company. In one swift takeover, waves of employees were cut from KaibaCorp’s ranks and dreams of expanded militarism and growing communities ground to a halt. After all, why build new houses when the old employees no longer had the jobs to pay for them?

With this story in mind, an amethyst-eyed boy with star-shaped hair walks briskly at the front of his friends. An abandoned suburb that no one wants to touch because it still carries the name Kaiba. What better place to hide one of the abducted than in the graveyard of the city’s baron?

Yugi blinks. He knows that he does not think in medieval references, so he glances inward. An amused flicker that vanishes behind a veil is all the teen gets in answer. Yugi sighs and turns his attention back outwards.

A black bird takes off from its hiding place in one of the obligatory foreign ornamental trees. Its dark, feathered body stands out against the light grey underbelly of the sky.

“And all we’re missing are the ghosts.” Joey grumbles. Due to the silence that had gripped the group on their way here, the blonde sounds louder than he should.

“Do you want ghosts? ‘Cause we could just ask the next creeper that comes along to bring a few.” Tristan’s bite fails to conceal the nervous twinge in his voice nor does it hide the way that he glances at the reflective windows.

Yugi looks back to his friends. Most of them, except for Ryo who calmly surveys each building, keep shooting wary, expectant glances at every dark movement, like that will be the person to come running out of one of the houses. Even though Yugi remains unconcerned by the ghost town amidst his worry for Tea, sympathy still twinges up for his friends. This place is unnatural, a stillborn community that was left to rot.

With these thoughts in mind, guilt surfaces at the necessity that he is about to suggest.

“We should split up.” The words are Yugi’s own, but the idea only partially his. His Other Self had pointed out that it would take too long for all of them to search each house together.

Joey looks to Yugi with a twitch. “Split up?” Dread hangs in the air. “Wouldn’t that make it easier for us to be picked off?”

“Joey, this isn’t a horror movie.” Tristan’s deadpan earns him the attention of Joey Wheeler.

“I know this ain’t a movie, but it’s going like one. We even have the gloomy overcast and the creepy magic,” Joey does not glance at the Puzzle. “All we need now is to run off into a zillion directions and then we’re followin’ the script.”

“We wouldn’t be travelling alone.” Yugi responds. “We’d be in pairs, and because they have phones, Miho could either go with you or maybe Tristan, and Ryo with the other. That way, we really wouldn’t be alone, and we could always call for help if we find Tea.” It goes unsaid that if Yugi found Tea, he would not need to call for help.

They all nod once the reasoning sinks in; although, Miho’s nod moves slowly, and she glances longingly at Ryo. Still, she says nothing.

“I’ll go with Joey,” Ryo says quietly.

“And I’ll go with Miho.” Tristan’s words are easily heard.

Yugi nods, and before long, they have all separated. The small duelist sets off into what, with its completed houses, looks to be the most developed part of the community. In the back of their mind, his Other Self’s mood contains more lightness than it has since the beginning of their friend’s kidnapping.

_“You seem calm.”_ Yugi’s confusion tints his words. The Lovely Two had cut off before they had gotten a precise location, and that worries him. Was it possible that Tea got hurt and that broke the connection?

_“If anything severe had happened to her, we would know. The Puzzle’s power is based on the unity of us and our friends.”_ His Other pauses only long enough to make it obvious that he is answering Yugi’s real concern. _“If any of them were to die, it would resonate.”_

At that, Yugi feels his feet stop. It occurs to him, in that moment, that his Other may have suggested the split to guarantee that he alone would confront the kidnappers.

_“You knew where she was the moment we got here.”_ The wonder in Yugi’s thoughts overrun his budding suspicions on why his Other Self would want to face this enemy alone.

_“Well…”_ They start walking towards the average, bluish house on the mundane, shadowed street. _“I didn’t know precisely where she was. It was just a feeling, a hunch if you will, that she would be behind this door.”_

Said door opens easily.

_“It’s unlocked!”_ Yugi’s surprise shows in the widening of darkening amethyst.

_“My, how curious.”_ With a glow of crimson, Dark Yugi strolls through the door.

 

* * *

 

Face half hidden by the curtain, Coppermine sits by the window. One hand rests on the window ledge. Occasionally, a tendon will twitch as if a few fingers want to tap on the ledge. But, they stay still as Coppermine peers out to the streets below. His mouth is drawn in a neutral line and his eyes draw the grey of the clouds into their green.

Nothing strolls along the sidewalk, yet Coppermine maintains a steady stare on the walkway. Any minute, the human shields he hired should come cruising down the street while smirking about the easy money that they will earn. Any moment, the Millennium Puzzle owner could amble down that street and force Coppermine to enact plan C.

Coppermine glances at his phone. The text to the hired help was sent the moment Klamath admitted to his stupid wager, so they should arrive any minute. A harsh exhale escapes Coppermine as he snaps the phone’s lid shut. He did not want to hire outsiders; the responsibility of keeping them alive is too distracting for his tastes… But the chances of encountering the Millennium wielder face to face have grown too high.

A smudge of color catches the corner of Coppermine’s eye. He leans back until most of his face hides behind the dull red curtain and only a single green eye peers out. The dash of color strolls so calmly down the street while Coppermine’s pulse races so quickly. With the subtlest of movements, the same remote that Coppermine had turned on earlier appears in his hand. Before the Millennium wielder can turn the corner leading to the house, Coppermine presses a button, and multiple clicks that can only be heard by mice echo through the house.

Completely still, he holds his breath until the owner has disappeared past the front door of the average, bluish house across the street.

* * *

As his Other walks to the stairs, Yugi watches from eyes that refuse to look into the other rooms. Logic says that Tea could be in any room of this house and that Yugi should be searching every square inch of it. Yet, experience with his odd other half whispers for Yugi to trust the nonchalant way his Other Self strolls up the stairs and ignores everything else.

Yugi frowns at the nagging suspicion that his Other can sense exactly where Tea is located. The Other Yugi’s lips twitch up into a smirk although the smirk lessens once they reach the top of the stairs. A tightness tugs at the edges of shared eyelids, and Yugi senses his other half’s sigh of annoyance.

_“It’s not my fault that we haven’t been sleeping well.”_ A protective undercurrent flows through Yugi’s thoughts, and his Other Self picks up on the message. It isn’t Ryo’s fault either.

The response is a shrug to Yugi’s thoughts, and the smirk returns as their hand reaches for the bedroom door. Rest assured, the heaviness of his limbs will dissipate once the kidnapper is pulled into a Game. Shadow Magic is very rejuvenating after all.

Yugi ignores his Other’s intentions and instead focuses past the opening door. As the Puzzle glints in the dim hallway, Yugi can sense her presence, but it is not until the door has been pushed aside that his heart leaps out of his chest. Painfully beautiful blue eyes stare right at him as Tea sits bound in a chair. Her hair is ruffled, but she appears alive and relatively well…

What is that on her face?

The smirk has vanished before Yugi can understand why, and his Other Self has turned towards the hall before Yugi has processed the look in his friend’s eyes. The silent blue warning and fear flash through his thoughts while his Other Self half trips, half runs down the hall and stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, a walk that consists mostly of stumbles allows Yugi to realize what was on Tea’s face. An ugly, black gas mask latched onto her face shines bright in his memory until that thought fades with the rest in a slump against the front door. Hisses of anger touch on Yugi’s awareness even as the world blackens and drags both halves of his soul into darkness.

Their progress is impressive, actually. Most humans would have fallen before they even opened the bedroom door.

* * *

 

As he crosses the street, Coppermine considers himself kind when he switches off the small, battery-powered, gas dispensers in the house. He could have let the owner overdose on the sedative, but Yugi Muto is a child, and Coppermine would like to keep the traces of good conscience that he still has left. The man even opens the front door to allow for ventilation.

Fogged green catch a glimpse of a slumped tricolored head before Coppermine leaps back. Muscles tense while Coppermine waits for the Millennium wielder to look up, but only the soft breaths of sleep reach out to the man. A sigh escapes as Coppermine straightens from a crouch and forces his breathing to stay even. However, the gold eye of the Puzzle glints too much for the young man to be completely successful.

Against common sense, Coppermine shuts his eyes and shakes his head. Black hair shifts slightly at the small movement. He needs to keep his head. The Millennium owner is unconscious, so he can’t do anything. The Item cannot either as long as Coppermine does not touch it. Besides, it’s not like it can cartwheel at him.

A hum down the street causes Coppermine to twitch, but a quick glance loosens tense muscles. An SUV, a bit overused if one considers the large crack across its front window, cruises down the empty road. The familiarity of the vehicle causes Coppermine to shrug and to allow an amused smirk to slide back on his face. He waves the truck down, glad that he no longer has to face dragging the owner inside.

* * *

 

_Yugi…_

Seeing him run away from her had hurt, but it was necessary. If the tight gas mask had not been fastened to her face, Tea would have screamed for him to run. Sure, the dull ache of seeing her hope (even temporarily) leave her had wrapped around her heart, but that would have been nothing compared to the sharp knives of guilt that would have struck her if her role as bait had worked.

Tea stays still. Her ears prickle as she tries to discern where Yugi is.

_Maybe he’s already outside._

She screams when her kidnapper, his face covered with a remnant from WWI gas attacks, walks through the door. The bound on her mouth muffles the scream to a dulled noise but does nothing to hide the burning mix of fire and fear in her eyes.

The young man only glances at her as he walks over to the window. The sound of the pane sliding coincides with the liquid fire that crawls through the veins in Tea’s arms, but, try as she might, magic refuses to blast out of her hands.

_Come on, come on, Miho can do magic tricks and Ryo can heal himself!_

Why can’t Tea blast away an enemy to save a friend?

The man waits through two minutes of her struggling before unlatching his mask. Tea’s follows soon after.  Her attempts to bite him fail thanks to the ropes binding her.

“HOW DARE YOU. LET US GO.”

He looks at her, those fogged eyes too tinted to reveal anything. Tea cannot tell if he is going to speak or not, but she glares at him all the same. Even the flame in her eyes brings forth no response. A thunk outside the doorway rips Tea’s glare away. Her heart tears itself up her throat, but when she sees that it is an empty chair, the panic calms.

The man who slammed down the chair pulls her attention next. Scruffs of hair plaster his jaw and fit the torn jeans and leather jacket he wears. He leers at her, but she only meets it with renewed burning in her glare.

The goon scoffs and then looks at the fogged-eyed young man.

“Hey kid, you said you wanted him brought upstairs.” The man’s rough voice makes Tea bear her teeth.

“Yeah, just until I get out of here though. Then, you’re supposed to take that piece of jewelry off and mail it to that address.” Her kidnapper smiles a closed-eyed smile. “I even printed out the mailing labels and left them on the counter.”

The goon frowns, but it is not clear whether he frowns at the order or the light tone.

“Why aren’t you just taking it with you?”

Tea would give the goon IQ points if she were in a better mood.

“Customs are a nightmare to deal with, so I’m shipping the damn thing on a boat.” The kidnapper grins. “Well, anyway, I got a few teens to distract while you and your wonderful crew get to work, bye now.” The young man walks away from Tea, but-

“You’re a coward.”

-she is not letting him get away unscathed.

Before he moves past the goon, the kidnapper glances back. He shrugs.

“Yeah, and I’m still alive because of it. ‘Cowards do survive’ and all that.” He walks out, not a single hint of remorse in his steps.


	8. Chapter 7

Unsurprisingly, unreliability weaves a common thread through most gangs of Domino. Hire a thug to steal a diamond necklace, and he will be selling it himself the next day.

The Hirutani family is different. It has been since feudal days when the codes of honor were stronger. With everything from torn jeans to low hanging pants to hoodies, the younger members certainly dress like all the other delinquents of the city, but they are different in the most important way. They follow the rules. Do not steal from a client. Follow the established method for collecting late “fees” and debts, etc.

All follow these rules or they die regardless of importance or rank.

Shibutaku keeps the history of his gang in mind as he eyes the delicious gold glinting against the boy’s chest. It is a shame, really. If it’s as solid as it looks, that pyramid could fetch a pretty penny on the black market. Shibutaku sighs as he closes his eyes. Oh well.

He opens his eyes again to survey the unconscious boy. The child, a Domino High student judging by his outfit, sleeps drooped in a chair. Even his hair sags at the tips as his arms drape, unbound, over the seat’s edges. Even untied, the kid’s too small to be a threat to five grown men. Besides, even if he woke up from whatever drug the client used, Shibutaku remains certain that he could catch him before the short kid could make it down the first step.

A sensation of heat tingles on the back of Shibutaku’s neck, so he turns and meets the glare of the second captive. He cannot help chuckling; the little girl thinks she looks so tough with that burning in her eyes.

“You better let us go.” Anger adds sternness to her tone, and Shibutaku does not miss the undercurrent of warning.

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.” Her eyes glow with blue fire.

Shibutaku grins and pulls out his gun. The girl’s eyes grow wide even though his finger rests off the trigger and the gun points harmlessly at the floor.

“Yeah, because your other, bigger friends will show up any minute? Don’t worry, I got that covered.” In reality, he is above shooting punk kids, but they behave better when they don’t know that.

A flicker out of the corner of his eye makes Shibutaku turn back to the boy. The grin fades as he watches for another movement, but all he sees is the boy and his dark shadow lingering on the floor.

After shaking off his suspicions, Shibutaku glances at the doorway just as his crony, Kiichiro, shows up with the packaging from the car.

“Got it, Shi-” The younger man jolts upon entering the room. He stares at the star-shaped hair.

“What?” Shibutaku’s demand is slight, but it is enough to snap Kiichiro out of his gape.

“That, that hair.”

Shibutaku sighs. Perhaps he should have picked someone smarter to come up here.

“Yes, yet another kid has dyed his hair three colors. I admit, the star shape is new, but do you really have to act like a speechless moron.”

The young man shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.” Kiichiro remains by the door. “Remember the boss’s son’s group.”

Shibutaku raises an eyebrow.

Kiichiro glances at the older gang member and then continues. “They all got put into the hospital ‘cause some freak with a yo-yo managed to use the toy to punch holes in the roof they were on.”

The girl snorts. It is quickly strangled by her own efforts, but it is loud enough for the two men to pick up.

Shibutaku glances at her. “Let me guess. The freak had the same hairstyle.”

“Yeah.” Kiichiro nods.

They could still tie the kid up, but it would probably be faster to chuck the gold in a box and leave the two here like initially planned.

“I don’t see how that changes things. It’s not like he’s gonna hit us with a yo-yo in his sleep.” The man waves at Kiichiro with his gun. “Bring the box.”

When Shibutaku kneels down next to the boy, the kid’s shadow appears darker than before. He shrugs that off to tricks of the light and reaches towards the jewelry. Fingers touch the glinting surface.

“Aaah, Shit.” A fire. He must have stuck his hands too close to a fire. Fingertips sear into red and withdraw to the chest without much more than instinct driving their motion.

“Hey, man,” Kiichiro drops the package and rushes to him, “you okay?”

With gritted teeth, the Hirutani thug glares at the unconscious boy. The kid still looks out, but gold never just heats up on its own.

“Hey, brat.” The growl reveals suspicion. If this kid is the same one cunning enough to beat half a dozen gang members on a rusty roof with a few well-placed yo-yo strikes, then he must be clever enough to hold his breath when he felt the drugged air hit his senses.

_Well, there’s only one way to find out if he’s out._

“That wasn’t very polite of you.” The growl stays low and the gun comes up and aims at the star-shaped head. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

In response to his superior, Kiichiro pulls out his gun as well. He keeps it pointed at the ground, but his finger is on the trigger. Behind them, blue eyes alight with horror and a glow too bright for the darkness of the room. For the first time since Monster World, a girl’s hands glow with power.

BANG.

The sound of exploding wood causes a jolt through Shibutaku, but his gun does not go off because he has never been foolish enough to put his finger on the trigger when there is no intention to kill. Kiichiro, on the other hand, whirls around to face the noise and blindly shoots once. The gun blast forces Shibutaku’s attention behind him

The girl is standing. The ropes that bound her lie in fragments on the floor. The ends of each fragment glow orange as heat eats up the rope. Behind the girl’s chair, pieces of burnt carpet smolder and chunks of wood lay scattered on the scorch mark.

Shibutaku’s eyes widen when he sees her hands. The palms glow blue, like little flashlights, but then the light fades with the sways of the girl.

Slowly, she looks down at her school shirt. Her eyes widen. Its pink color had contrasted beautifully with the blue palm-light, yet now, in the dimmer light of the room, an ugly darker patch grows next to her belly.

“Oh.” Once she falls to her knees, the girl stares back at them with those wide eyes.

Behind them, the black shadows under the boy grow darker still until they are bottomless holes. They pull inwards, binding tighter and tighter into the soles of the boy’s feet until nothing remains of their existence. Through a drug-induced haze, they dig and rip while the men stare dumbly at the pale girl. To the sound of a friend’s ragged breaths, clear crimson eyes tear open.

* * *

 

The roofless houses on this street stand like wooden skeletons. Neither plaster nor insulation protects their frames from the weather, so black rot creeps along much of the wood. It won’t be long before they collapse in on themselves into piles of nails and boards. But today, they hauntingly loom at the edges of his vision as Joey walks past them and tries not to look at them. After all, there is no way that a kidnapper would hide Tea in something so open and no way that Joey wants to be exposed to any more creepiness than he has to.

There is also the fact that a part of him he ignores insists that, the next time Ryo and him run into Yugi, Tea will be standing there beside his spiky-haired friend.

To avoid glancing at the buildings, Joey looks up at the sky. The light grey appears as the edges of ghosts. Perhaps that is where the plans for these buildings went, into the sky as nothing more than faded dreams.

The blonde huffs as he drags his focus back to the sidewalk in front of him. There are a few cracks through the concrete. They draw Joey’s eyes to them and he traces their short paths with a look. Unbidden, the sound of the Other Yugi laughing at the recording echoes in Joey’s ears as the near silent winter wind whispers by. The blonde shakes his head.

_Stop thinking about that. Yug was just upset. You’d be freaking out too if it was Serenity._

More unwanted thoughts tug at the edges of Joey’s mind, so he looks around to find something else more important than these mental strings. One glance happens to land on Ryo. Green eyes stare straight back at Joey, who blinks at the attention. For his part, Ryo jolts and quickly glances at the sidewalk. The boy breathes in before looking back up at Joey, but he says nothing as he stops walking.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Joey halts his own steps while he looks over his friend. Pale hands do not tremble, and the shadows under the boy’s eyes remain pale, thin strips, so no worry over Ryo’s hesitation clouds Joey’s brown eyes. Still…the silence stretches too long.

As Joey opens his mouth to speak, Ryo’s sets itself in a determined line before letting out, “Has he done that before?”

“Wha…?” The question comes so far out of the left field that Joey forgets about the skeleton houses and ghostly grey skies and focuses completely on Ryo who stares right back. “Who are you talking about?”

“The-the Other Yugi.” The catch in Ryo’s voice dissipates as he continues. “Has he laughed like that before?”

The reference to the Other Yugi’s laughing fit causes a spasm of the almost barred memory in Joey’s mind and he shakes his head to rid himself of the image. Even with the motion, he cannot quite purge himself of the flashes of that unnatural glint in those crimson eyes.

Relief trickles into Ryo’s eyes. “Okay, then. Forget I-” He cuts himself off as he catches something in Joey’s expression. No words come out as the relief drains away.

Confusion colors Joey’s awareness to the point that he does not notice the chilly bite of wind that hisses past. He does not remember, honestly, because half the time the Other Yugi comes out when everyone else is more focused on surviving whatever threat than what the Other Yugi is saying. No, that’s not right. Joey _would have remembered_ if he had laughed like that before.

“No, this is the first time I’ve heard him do that.” Joey pauses because…what does that mean? If the Other Yugi has not laughed like that during Monster World or Death-T or when any one of Domino’s weekly thugs was messing with them, what does that say about now?

Ryo stares. Joey fidgets. The latter can feel an adrenalized question in the air, but not knowing what it is or where this left field conversation is going sets an itch across his skin.

Ryo narrows his eyes. “Has he ever acted like that in other ways?”

“Like what?” Joey should ask, but a thought pings the answer to him before he can even look more confused.

_Unbalanced._

The traitorous whisper causes Joey to wince. _No_ , that’s not right. Sure, the Other Yugi might be a little out there sometimes, but that does not mean he’s unbalanced. Just a little unconventional, like the rest of their group.

“Nah, I mean, he did do that mind, magicky coma on Kaiba, but the guy had it coming. He also made someone think they were on fire once, but the creep had blindfolded and pointed a gun at Tea, so he got off a lot lighter than I would have let him. Oh yeah, then there was the time he electrocuted Hirutani and his thugs. They survived of course, but you can sure bet that they had a long vacation at the hospital.”

Ryo looks at him with almost pity.

In response, something sparks in Joey’s eyes, but it does not light into a full out flame like it would if someone else had questioned his friend. Ryo’s had a bad, bad experience with his darkness; so, these questions, these doubts that he has about Yugi’s own dark side are more than understandable.

“Look,” Joey lets no harshness into his tone. “I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t like that. I know Bakura put you through the ringer, but the Other Yugi isn’t the same as him. I’ve known him and Yugi for a while now, and he has a solid head, especially when he’s trying to protect the rest of us.”

The way Ryo looks at him…Joey cannot read those green eyes, which are darker from the clouds above, nor can he figure out the meaning behind the straight line of the boy’s mouth. His scrutiny breaks with the white-haired boy’s sigh.

“Sorry, I just…” As the apology weaves through his tone, Ryo looks annoyed with himself. “It’s hard not to be paranoid, especially since Tea’s missing.” Ryo stumbles over those last two words as he swallows.

Joey forces a grin. “Don’t worry about that. Yugi’ll find Tea and things will be back to normal in no time.”

Ryo does not reply to that. Instead, he looks past Joey’s shoulder, and surprise flits across his pale features. Joey spins around because this is an empty, creepy neighborhood and who knows what’s sneaking up behind him.

A man stands frozen a few yards away. Long black hair accents the man’s white face as green eyes that look like fogged glass stare with dilated pupils.

“Ba-Bakura.” The stranger’s voice thins on each syllable. It is almost like the cold saps the strength out of his words.

Ryo’s eyes grow round as he moves swiftly from the stages of confusion to a dawning horror of understanding as to why his appearance strikes fear in the stranger’s eyes. Joey, for his part, still resides in the dark of ignorance.

“Hey! Who are you and how da ya know Ryo?”

The stranger only stares in silence.

“Joey…” Ryo’s voice thins as well, but that is because of a rush of memories of Bakura stuffing every friendly person they have ever met into little figurines. Who knows what this poor stranger has endured?

“I think that he was referring to Bakura,” Ryo finishes.

The quiet words linger in the air, and for a fleeting instant, Joey wonders if someone is finally seeking vengeance for Bakura’s Shadow Games. Perhaps Tea’s kidnapping was payback for some torment. The fleeting instant passes when the stranger’s mouth parts and the fear in fogged eyes glows too much for this person to have purposely set foot in the same city as Bakura.

With a blink, the stranger’s fear dims behind a hazy mask, and Joey is left feeling disoriented by the change.

“Hey, Bakura.” The stranger raises his hand in greeting. “Didn’t expect to see you around here.” The fingers of that hand tremble.

A chill, which has nothing to do with the winter, shoots through Joey.

“You’re not after the Puzzle, are you?” The man winces. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question, of course you are.”

“Hey!” The chill that had traveled through Joey flashes away in a trail of heated suspicion. “That isn’t Bakura you’re talking to, that’s Ryo! And what are you talking about Puzzle?” In Joey’s mind, the electronic-tinted voice of the recorder sounds a little too close to this new guy’s.

“Ryo?” The stranger stumbles over the name.

“Yeah, and don’t forget that!” Yugi sent Bakura packing a while ago.” Joey’s voice reaches the edge of the block. “Now, if you don’t want me to show you how Joey Wheeler sends his enemies packing, I suggest that you give us Tea back.” The green jacketed teen punches his own palm.

The man’s fogged green eyes lose focus as they stare past Joey. Somehow, the stranger’s face pales further.

“There ya go. Glad to see that you’re taking us seriously.” Joey marches forward.

“I just killed five people.” The words are audible enough not to be a mutter, but not by much. There is no guilt in that voice, only a kind of quiet awe.

Joey stops. “Wha-”

In the distance, the first gunshot goes off like thunder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The incidents that involved Yami and enemies that Joey refers to were all events that took place in season 0 (a prequel to the main series) and the manga volumes. During these times, Yami’s punishments of foes tended to match what one would expect an ancient spirit to act like after thousands of years of solitary confinement, so they were a little more severe than the treatment that the calmer Yami that was shown in Duelist Kingdom onward displayed towards later opponents like Pegasus, Marik, etc.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been resurrected by the Necromancer Society

Crimson shifts from one target to the second. In the room that grows dimmer ever so slowly, the two goons stand there, staring at Tea for another moment before the older one rounds on the other and starts shouting. Their words are unimportant.

The girl is important, though. Her life deserves his attention. Crimson eyes shift again to catch a glimpse of her. Their eyes catch, and recognition and relief enter Tea’s. Within the locked gaze, the spirit can see her thoughts. _He will save her,_ she believes. The belief fades, but not due to a faltering conviction. The girl cannot keep awake enough to feel, so she falls to the side. There is no sound as she comes to a rest on the carpet; only the soundless flickering of embers that glow behind her.

The words of the targets silence. Their existence in the Puzzle Spirit’s world ceases to register. There is only the girl, faintly breathing and asleep when she must not be.

_The Puzzle glows. Something chips; long cracks grow on the planes of Dark Yugi’s mercy until pieces fall down into the cold abyss._

The two men arguing amongst themselves fail to notice the darkening of the room. One by one, the embers die as shadows stretch out across the floor and showcase shelves. The eyes of the awakened spirit glisten like the blood on the girl’s shirt.

_The light half’s soul door waits for the Puzzle Spirit. From the outside, a dead bolt slides into place._

Yugi is asleep still. He did not see what happened. He will never have need to.

A psychotic touch manifests in his surface features but then sinks in deep through to his bones. As the touch vanishes beneath the surface, all that is left on the dark spirit’s face are hollow eyes and a mask that does not try to look human.

When the older one steps towards the girl, his eyes lack the compassion that would signal the intention to help. Behind the two, a figure pushes himself out of the chair. His rise is silent, so neither human turns around.

_The darkness of Yugi has decided their Game. It may be a little unfair, but that is acceptable._

A hand reaches forward, and the older goon jerks when a small, warm hand grasps his arm.

* * *

 

Shibutaku jolts at the sensation of ants crawling by his elbow. He knows that there are no ants in this place, but that does not stop him from swiping at the spot while turning around. The hand that he hits is the first thing Shibutaku feels. A spike of adrenaline is the second.

As the boy’s, who was supposed to be unconscious, hand falls away, Shibutaku gets a good look at his eyes. The hollowness in their depths means next to nothing to one who sees killers’ eyes every day when he walks into work. Yet, that color, that crimson glint that glistens like blood, brings on a reflexive aiming of his gun.

“You’re it.” The words of the demon-eyed boy are out before the gun has even risen a foot. By the time Shibutaku shoots, the boy has already disappeared past the doorway. A bullet hole mocks the gang member from its place in the frame.

_That kid was too fast. That kid was too fucking fast!_

The sensation of ants has disappeared, but Shibutaku knows that he is going to purify his arm later.

“Kiichiro-” Shibutaku turns and feels only confusion when he sees his companion’s face. Fear twists its features as the younger man stumbles back screaming. Three bullets fire, but Shibutaku only stays around to hear the first.

* * *

 

Kiichiro’s heart pounds loud enough in his ears to muffle the sound of his gun blasting. He does not understand. He just does not understand. One minute, his senior was standing there, and the next…The next, Shibutaku’s brown eyes darkened into all-encompassing black. His skin morphed into a blotched corpse grey, and his hair thinned and sloughed off with pieces of scalp.

What happened to his mouth was…It turned as black as his eyes except for needle-sharp teeth that gleamed in little lines when he spoke…spoke in that deep, ear-scathing voice,

“Kiichiro-”

Even as a ringing silence follows the gunshot’s blast, Kiichiro’s heart races in his ears. His gun hand trembles as he stares down at the prone form of his boss. Now, Shibutaku looks normal again, with no black or grey on him at all. There is only red leaking out of his head and back.

_What…_

Kiichiro stumbles back and looks around frantically.

“What? What the hell is happening?!”

“Looks like you’re it.”

The voice, which slides through the air as easily as a coffin into the ground, rips through Kiichiro’s shock. The gun points at the red-eyed boy before Kiichiro can register his own movement. Foolishly, he does not pull the trigger.

“What, what are you talking about?” The man misses the whine of his own voice.

The boy tilts his head. In the untimely darkness of the room, those eyes blaze red as they regard Kiichiro.

“I mean that you’re ‘it,’” says the boy when the silence has stretched enough to make Kiichiro’s trigger finger twitch. “This is a game of tag after all, so someone has to be ‘it’ when the last ‘it’ is… incapacitated.”

Fear scrunches up Kiichiro’s face into an ugly mess of folds. “What… Did you, did you do…” A collision of thoughts rampage in the man’s eyes until he asks the one thing that actually matters. “What did you do to Shibutaku!?”

“I made him ‘it’ in this Shadow Game.” There are no changes in pitch, no rise and fall of intonation; the boy’s voice only carries an empty, flat line. “ You see, ordinary tag always confuses me. A game where you run from another laughing person makes no sense. Why would you run your fastest from such a _safe_ pursuer?” The emphasized word strikes through the air.

“So,” The boy stares, those eyes glowing, that voice still flat, “I decided to simply add a bit of logic to this game by making whoever is ‘it’ wear their worse natures on the outside.”

Numbing cold spreads through Kiichiro’s chest when the boy pauses in his speech. “Worst natures? What the hell are you talking about? You’re saying that was something inside of Shibutaku? No. That’s not possible!”

Those crimson eyes still blaze, but somehow, even with their unnatural light, they seem darker than the nearly black room. “Shibutaku was a man who had no problem working on a daily basis for a gang that killed people and committed atrocious crimes. What did you expect to grow inside your friend’s soul?”

“No!” The fear-stricken man stumbles back. “You’re lying!”

It is then that the pounding of feet on stairs reaches Kiichiro’s ears. The thug stands there, the demon’s words swirling in his head until the pounding reaches the top of the stairs. When the pounding echoes too closely, the demon dressed as a boy smiles. It is too hollow to be a smirk, but the twist of lips is no smile. As Kiichiro watches frozen, the boy steps back further into the hallway. The dark black that obscures the wall from sight swallows up even the glow of his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Kyu sprints up the stairs. This was not supposed to be a difficult job - just some simple delivery service - but this is not the first time an “easy” job has gone wrong for him. Because of this, his expression is calm, grim but calm. Even though his heart races from the exertion, his hands hold the gun steady as the grey light that filters into the staircase glistens off of it.

The darkness of the hallway stops him in his tracks. Downstairs, the rooms were colored greys and muted shades of pigment. Here, the closest door, the one to the bedroom, is barely visible amongst the blackness that has consumed the upper floor. A chill infuses the air and clutches deep into the bones of Kyu. The tip of his gun quivers once at its place held far away from Kyu’s body. The weapon is clutched as tightly as a sword that is keeping dark creatures at bay would be.

The Hirutani gang member does not take a single step forward for there is no way in hell it should be so dark, even if the curtains were closed.

“Hey, boss, you alright?” Underneath a blue-spotted bandana, Kyu’s ears strain to hear a response. His left foot twitches in preparation for him to back slowly down the stairs.

“K-Kyu?” Kiichiro, the youngest, whimpers from around the doorway. A soft scuffle can be heard as he moves towards the hall.

“What the hell is going on up there?” From the bottom of the staircase, a third man squints as he stands plastered against the wall.

Kyu says nothing while he watches the impenetrable shadows ahead of him. Like most shadows of the night, they swim with movement as though something lurks just beyond reach.

“Shi-Shibutaku is dead…I-I shot him.” Kiichiro’s voice tears up.

“What?!” The word blurts out of Kyu’s mouth of its own accord and his eyes flicker to the bedroom doorframe. A flicker of what could be red out of their corner encourages them back to the darkness.

“That kid…he did something to him,’” Kiichiro whimpers as he grabs the doorframe from the inside, but…it is not his hand that comes out of the door. The appendage, a green plant root if it was not pulsating, wraps its bloated form around the frame. A face, or something that should be a face, follows it into the open. If the appendage is a bloated, rotting plant, then the face is swollen worms left out in the rain. The main head could be one creature, but the wriggling masses that must be the eyes and mouth are made up of several-

Although his face turns ashen pale, Kyu shoots out one eye mass without screaming.

* * *

 

There should be rain. It should be thundering around him as he races down the street, each step jarring the concrete. Just like that day, the icy water should be draining away any feeling in his limbs, leaving nothing but numbness behind.

Today, however, though his lungs burn like they did then, he feels nothing but inconvenient bristling in his chest.

Ryo runs. The clouds are grey above him, but the sun still filters through as dim, grey light. He does not run through sloshing puddles. He does not stumble as blood and fragments of twisted metal snap at his heels, but instead refuses to look back.

_A vibrant river of annoyance rears up in Ryo’s mind. Instead of speaking though, the Voice merely eyes Ryo’s ignored memories._

Each step is steady. Ryo does not stumble. There is probably blood ahead and twisted metal of a different kind, but Ryo races towards it. He _has_ to move fast, or he might be too late.

_“Too late for what? Have you truly forgotten how your friends handled your safety? With how much they fumbled with that, why should you care for theirs?”_

Instead of responding, Ryo ignores the voice in his head. He does not have time to deal with Bakura’s attempts to pull him away from his friends.

Three more distant gunshots ring out, and Ryo nearly forgets his dark half’s presence entirely. Two more ensure that the questions that he had asked Joey, the concern and curiosity that Ryo had about Yugi’s dark side, fade on the path behind him.

“Dammit!” Joey grits his teeth as he shoots past his place beside Ryo and races ahead. The man that they had encountered is not even a blip on their minds, for all that matters through each jarring shove off of concrete is reaching their friends. Three blocks pass by in a blur as Ryo’s thoughts try to outrace his feet.

Magic and Shadow Games are powerful against the average, unaware individual, but guns are in a category of their own. Could Yugi’s darkness really protect Yugi and Tea if someone started taking shots at him before he could initiate a Shadow Game? One of them could be bleeding right now, on the ground somewhere…

Ryo almost reaches Joey’s speed as he runs faster.

_“At least try not to get shot on this fool’s errand,”_ Bakura huffs from his relegated spot of barely a blip on Ryo’s mind. _“It would be inconvenient.”_

_“Inconvenient?!”_ The casual disinterest of Bakura’s voice causes Ryo’s attention to flicker inward. _“Yugi could be hurt right now and-”_ The thought stops as Ryo remembers that Bakura does not care about the others.

_“Hmm.”_ The annoyed sigh sounds so close that Ryo expects to feel breath pass his ear. _“The Pharaoh better not be taken out so easily.”_ A whiff of the humiliation at losing Monster World follows the thought. _“Bullets are child’s play to deal with for Shadow Gamers like us, so it would be an embarrassment to all of our kind if he were to be so readily put down.”_

_“Pharaoh?”_ Ryo’s run curves around a corner. _“Why did you call him Pharaoh?”_

If Bakura were in control, the body would have skidded to a halt. As it is, the darkness’s thoughts lurch back. In Ryo’s mind, amber eyes narrow at him and he feels pinpricks rise along the back of his neck.

Before either can react, Joey skids to a halt and shouts out. Ryo’s eyes snap up from the blur of pavement to a finished house on the mostly abandoned street. An SUV sits parked in the driveway. The front car door is open, and a man leans heavily against the vehicle’s side. His head, swathed in a blue-spotted bandana, leans against the tinted window. Even from this distance, Ryo can see the man heaving.

“HEY! YOU!” His voice a roar, Joey sprints forward.

The man’s head jolts up. His dark eyes focus on them, but it is the site of the man’s face that forces Ryo to a halt. A gash cuts across his entire cheek, and when the man turns, red seeps through the left hand clamped tightly against his right side. For a moment, the heaving man stares at them with an apprehension-haunted gaze. He tenses, as though expecting something terrible to happen, but Joey continues running and Ryo still just watches. Slowly, the man’s eyes darken and the fear drains away. His right hand flashes black and rises.

Ryo feels his body throw itself to the side as Joey skids to a halt. Milliseconds later, Joey follows suit. He just manages to dodge as the gun blasts a hole in the mailbox where the blonde had just been.

Ryo’s lips pull themselves into a snarl, and Ryo watches from his mind as Bakura forces full control and races to the entrance of one of the houses. Just as the pounding of sneakers signifies that Joey follows, the SUV roars to life and screeches as it pulls out of the driveway. A flicker of a glance shows it as it charges down the road towards them. Bakura has not even gotten them close to the door when it zips past them and down the street. When the SUV screeches around a corner, Ryo feels the strings of Bakura’s control snap and barely catches himself as he falls against the door.

“Whoa, Ryo, did he hit you?” Joey stops in front of the gasping teen. His hand grasps Ryo’s shoulder. Bright green eyes stare up at him.

“I’m…fine.” Ryo manages between gasps. “Need…to get…to Yugi.” The boy pushes himself off the door. At first, he stumbles, but the need to see if Yugi and Tea are alive strengthens the steps into a quick walk.

Joey’s gaze darts over Ryo’s retreating form. No specks of blood are spotted, and Joey, satisfied, is off and ahead of Ryo. It takes a handful of seconds for Joey to reach the house that the SUV had been by. It takes less time for Ryo to spot the pure black windows on the second floor.

_“Well, someone is in a bad mood.”_

Ryo ignores the purr in the back of his head.

“HEY, YUGI, TEA, YOU IN THERE!” The shout is out of Joey’s mouth before the blonde is fully through the door.

Ryo hesitates when one window, then another, flickers from black to the reflective grey of all the other windows on the street. Once grey has fully replaced black, Ryo jogs forward, his tension wound tight in his head.

_Yugi probably is alive, but…_

Tea could be hurt, and the Ring Spirit did say that Yugi’s darkness was in a bad mood.

When Ryo reaches the doorway, Joey is still there. The tall adolescent stands a foot in from the door, blocking Ryo’s view of the inside of the house. He does not need to see though. The coppery scent that hits his nose is enough to know what happened.

“Is it…” Ryo falters. Joey would not be still if it was Yugi or Tea, so a tremble of relief interweaves with the shaking of exhausted limbs. Worry for his friends still wraps around Ryo’s thoughts, but, at least downstairs, they are not hurt.

_But what about upstairs? They could be hurt or…_

The shaking of exhaustion morphs to something else as other images fade in and out of the edges of his thoughts. Ryo’s breath quickens while the past drags itself to the surface.

“We, we gotta keep going.” Joey’s voice cuts through Ryo’s creeping thoughts. The determination that burns away the touch of nervousness in his friend’s tone pulls Ryo fully back to the present.

“Just-just keep your eyes up, okay?” Joey does not ask Ryo whether or not he can continue because they don’t have a choice; they have to.

Ryo steps past Joey and his words. A shoe sticks out from a doorway, and he passes it, eyes trained on the stairs.

_Yugi could be hurt._

Green eyes do not flicker to the spots on the staircase wall, nor do hands tremble. The only vibrations felt are the ones of footsteps behind him.

The body in the bedroom door draws Ryo’s eyes. They widen, but instead of gasps that accompany a maelstrom of memories, a possibility forces itself to the surface.

_Tea could be hurt._

“Hey, Yugi, Tea, are you there!” Joey’s voice rings out, but Ryo does not flinch from the sudden but expected sound.

The shadows of the hall flicker, and that’s all the answer Ryo needs to close the distance between him and the door.

The colors are almost gone. The angle of the sun outside ensures that only slight hues remain in the darkening room. Even so, that does not stop Ryo from noticing the dark, growing splotch on Tea’s shirt.

The boy forgets to breathe, but somehow frigid air still fills his lungs.


End file.
